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FESTIVAL  PLAYS 


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CRANFORD:  A  PLAY 

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Gaskell's  novel.  Cover  design  and 
frontispiece  by  Edwin  Wallick. 
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THE  VICAR   OF  WAKEFIELD;     A 
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PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE:  A  PLAY 

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net. 


X'  -T 


r'^"-> 


TO 


nc  ^ 


"The  World,  a  perfect  sphere,  all  rainbow  bright, 
Is  vours  to  make,  with  every  breath  you  draw. 


FESTIVAL     PLAYS 


ONE- ACT  PIECES  FOR  NEW  YEAR'S 
BAY,  ST.  VALENTINE'S  DAY,  EAS- 
TER, ALL  HALLOWE'EN,  CHRISTMAS 
AND  A  CHILD'S  BIRTH  DA  Y. 


BY 

MARGUERITE    MERINGTON 


NEW  YORK 

DUFFIELD  &  COMPANY 

1913 


Copyright,  1913 
Bt  DUFFIELD  &  COMPANY 


TO 
MY   SISTER 

MARY   E.    MERINGTON 


281709 


CONTENTS 


PAGE 

Father  Time  and  His  Children 

(New  Year's  Day) 7 

Tertulla's  Garden,  or  The  Miracle  of  Good  St. 
Valentine 

(Valentine's  Day) 25 

The  Seven  Sleepers  of  Ephesos 

(Easter) 79 

Princess  Moss  Rose 

(For  Every  Child's  Birthday)       ...          125 

The  Testing  of  Sir  Gawayne 

(Hallowe'en) 209 

A  Christmas  Party 

(Christmas) 263 


A  fee  is  charged  for  the  stage  use  of  any  of  these 
plays.  Applications  should  be  made  to  Dufi&eld  &  Com- 
pany, 36  West  37th  Street,  New  York. 


ILLUSTRATIONS 


"The  world,  a  perfect  sphere,  all  rainbow  bright, 
Is  yours  to  make,  with  every  breath  you  draw" 

(See  page  294) , Frontispiece 

"'What!  A  pretty  girl  who  does   not  recognize 

her  own  face!  " facing  page  62 

"What,  ho!    'Tis  morning!    See,  the  sun  hath 

risen" facing  page         118 

"Look,  Sir  Knight!  Behold  the  visage  of  your 

bride" facing  page         258 


FATHER  TIME  AND  HIS  CHILDREN 


FATHER  TIME  AND   HIS  CHILDREN 

Characters 

Father  Time  and  the  Twelve  Months  of  the  Year. 

Costumes,  etc.:  Time,  an  emblematic  figure;  Months 
dressed  according  to  characters:  January  wears  a 
mask  at  back  of  head,  resembling  face;  February  is 
the  shortest  child,  and  walks  with  a  skipping  leap  at 
every  fourth  step;  March's  costume  suggests  the 
lion  and  the  lamb,  etc.  Scenery  may  be  elaborate,  or 
simple,  or  dispensed  with  entirely.  A  sun-dial  or  a 
clump  of  rocks  may  be  placed  at  back  of  stage,  where 
Time  will  take  his  position  while  the  Months  recite. 
Snow  may  be  simulated  by  small  pieces  of  white  paper 
being  gently  dropped  from  above,  or  by  a  little  salt 
being  placed  in  the  folds  of  a  character's  coat,  so 
that  it  drops  off  lightly,  or  by  a  frosty  little  dab  of 
9 


10  FESTIVAL  PLAYS 

soap-suds  on  the  shoulder  melting  almost  immedi- 
ately. Taking  a  commanding  position  Time  will 
summon  each  Month  in  turn  by  name,  through  a 
megaphone,  then  when  the  Month  appears  will  retire 
to  the  back  of  stage  till  the  recitation  shall  have  been 
concluded.  The  Months  will  appear  when  sum- 
moned, in  turn,  disappearing  on  the  opposite  side  of 
stage,  if  possible  behind  a  piece  of  scenery,  reappear- 
ing at  back  of  stage,  there  to  remain  quietly  till  the 
ensemble  at  close.  Appropriate  music  for  exits  and 
entrances  may  be  used.  The  songs  and  dances  may  be 
arranged  to  popular  tunes.  Colored  lights  if  skilfully 
handled  may  be  used. 
Music:  It  ends  with  heavy  chords  marking  time.  Cur- 
tain rises  disclosing  Father  Time.  He  blows  blast 
through  megaphone,  then  speaks. 

Time. 

What  ho,  hilly  ho !     Before  you  you  see 

A  being  as  ancient  as  old  can  be. 

Methuselah's  decades  a  thousandfold 

Would  not  have  made  him  one  thousandth  as  old. 

Tlie  ages  of  all  the  world  and  his  wife 

Are  not  a  speck  on  a  patch  on  my  life; 

Nay,  all  your  ancestors  strung  in  a  line 

Would  not  reach  back  with  their  birthdays  to  mine; 

And  though  the  agedest  ancient  you  know 

The  longer  I  live  the  older  I  grow! 

Oh,  no  one  was  ever  so  old  as  I, 

Nor  ever  will  be,  so  't  were  vain  to  try ! 


FATHER  TIME  AND  HIS  CHILDREN         11 

For,  lo !  I  am  Time,  your  old  Father  Time, 

The  reason  of  wrinkles,  the  rhythm  of  rhyme; 

First  aboriginal  native  of  space; 

Earliest  settler  all  over  the  place; 

The  oldest  inhabitant  here,  or  there; 

The  latest  arrival  everywhere. 

By  the  wink  of  my  eye  your  clocks  are  set, 

And  the  corn  you  cut  when  my  scythe  I  whet. 

'T  is  the  wag  of  my  beard  marks  music's  sound. 

Makes  the  sun  come  up,  and  the  world  go  round. 

And  you  tell  by  my  smile,  or  shake  of  head 

When  to  turn  out,  or  to  turn  into  bed ! 

Now  Time  is  money,  so,  therefore,  you  see 

Whoever  wants  gold  must  reckon  with  me; 

Though  if  I  should  look  with  a  frown  your  way 

The  gold  of  your  hair  might  be  changed  to  grey ! 

Or,  if  your  gold  is  a  counterfeit  crime, 

You  may  cheat  the  world,  but  you  can't  cheat  Time ! 

The  wealth  I  bring  is  a  golden  chance 

For  making  the  best  of  your  circumstance; 

But  if  too  freely  you  spend  what  I  give 

I  shorten  your  days,  as  sure  as  you  live! 

So  you,  the  neighbours,  the  world  and  his  wife 

Must  come  to  me  for  the  time  of  your  life ! 

For  I  can  make  you  dance  to  .  .  . 

[Dances  and  sings.] 
Quick  time  and  slack  time ;  nick  o'  time  and  back  time ! 
Back  time  and  fast  time ;  lack  of  time  and  past  time ! 
Last  time  and  least  time ;  fasting  time  and  feast  time ! 
Little  time  and  long  time ;  tittle-tattle  wrong  time ! 
Sleep  time,  and  train  time ;  keeping  time  to  gain  time ! 


12  FESTIVAL  PLAYS 

Best  time  to  find  time ;  lest  you  be  behind  time ! 
Saint  time  and  sinner  time;  fainting-for-dinner  time! 
Night-time  and  daytime ;  right-you-are-time ;  playtime ! 
Make  time  and  meantime;  take-your-time  between  time! 
Some  time  and  no  time ;  coming  time  and  go  time ! 
Zig  time  and  zag  time ;  jigging  time  and  rag-time ! 
Prime  time  and  high  time ;  Time-to-say-good-by  time ! 
[Stops;  wipes  brow;  speaJcs.]     Not  so  bad  for  an  ancient 
eh?  .  .  .  And  that  is  the  way  I  shall  dance  to  the  End 
OF  Time!     [Goes  to  centre  of  stage.]     And  now  let  me 
present  to  you  my  twelve  beautiful  children!     [Begins  to 
call  through  megaphone.']     What,  ho!     [Just  then  an  un- 
seen clocTc  strikes  twelve.     Time  counts  the  strokes.    As 
the  last  dies  away  he  summons  January.    Instantly  there 
is  a  great  to-do  behind  the  scenes:  bells,  horns,  whistles, 
people  cheering,  etc.    January  appears.] 

January. 
When  the  old  year  dies  at  midnight's  chime 

Behold,  I  appear! 
The  eldest  and  youngest  child  of  Time, 

The  Happy  New  Year ! 

Two  faces  I  wear,  like  the  Roman  god 

At  the  temple  door, 
Surveying  the  path  by  pilgrims  trod, 

And  the  path  before. 

Backward  looking,  and  looking  ahead. 

Like  that  god  in  Rome; 
We  read  the  roads  we  have  yet  to  tread 

By  the  roads  we've  come. 


FATHER  TIME  AND  HIS  CHILDREN         13 

Then,  Janus-wise,  with  our  double  view, 

Let  us  bear  in  mind 
To  bring  no  faults  to  the  year  that's  new 

From  the  years  behind; 

Only  good  counsels  by  which  we  live, 

Good  thoughts  and  good  cheer. 
For  that  is  the  way  to  get  and  give 

A  Happy  New  Year!     [Exit  Jamiary.] 

[Enter  February.] 

February. 

Behold  the  shortest  month  in  all  the  year — - 

And  yet  I  hold  my  head  as  high 

As  January  or  July, 
Since  Washington  by  birth  belongs  to  me, 
And  Lincoln.     Greater  glory  could  there  be? 
I'm  sure  you'll  all  applaud  and  cry  Hear,  hear !     [Pauses 
for  this  to  be  done.] 

Also  I  proudly  claim  for  mine 

That  favourite  Saint  Valentine, 

Upon  whose  day  birds  pair  and  build  their  nest. 

Lads  rhyme  about  the  maidens  they  love  best, 

And  maids  dream  of  the  lads  they  hold  most  dear. 

And  then,  each  fourth  time  I  come  round 

I  have  to  give  a  mighty  bound. 

Like  this !     As  if  at  leap-frog  did  I  play. 

Thus  to  my  twenty-eight  an  extra  day 

I  add,  to  keep  the  almanac  in  gear !     [Exit  February.] 


14  FESTIVAL  PLAYS 

March. 

[Enters  roaring.] 
Wrapped  in  clouds  and  a  flurry  of  snow, 
Like  a  roaring  lion  March  conies  in; 
All  a  boisterous,  blustering  blow ! 
I  rattle  windows,  and  doors  I  slam; 
And  people's  hats,  to  their  great  chagrin, 
I  snatch  and  send  on  a  whirling  spin ; 
Then,  hiding  in  chimneys,  laugh  Ho,  ho ! 
Oh,  what  a  practical  joker  I  am ! 

Or,  rocking  the  tree-tops  to  and  fro, 
I  climb  aloft  like  a  harlequin 
To  play  my  pranks  on  the  world  below. 
Stout  timbers  creak  when  ice-flows  jam 
From  sea  to  harbour  where  ships  come  in ; 
And  flood  and  freshet  their  foam-wreath?  throw, 
And  mill-wheels  turn  with  furious  din 
As  the  mill-stream  rushes  over  the  dam! 

"0  wintry  March,  will  it  never  go !" 

You  cry,  "and  suffer  sweet  spring  to  win, 

With  fields  for  ploughing  and  seed  to  sow?" 

Then  how  I  laugh,  for  't  is  all  a  sham. 

My  blustering  roar  and  lion's  skin  .  .  . 

My  practical  joke,  to  take  you  in ! 

For,  see!  I'm  the  mildest  month  you  know, 

As  I  tiptoe  off  like  a  gentle  lamb !     [Exit  March.] 


FATHER  TIME  AND  HIS  CHILDREN         15 

[Enter  April.] 

April. 

Ha,  ha !     Ha,  ha  !     Ha,  ha,  ha,  ha  !     Oh,  dear,  Oh,  clear, 

Oh,  dear  I 
I  am  the  saddest  and  the  gladdest  month  of  all  the  year ! 
I  cry  and  cry  and  cry  until  my  tears  make  little  pools 
Because  upon  my  way  I  meet  so  many  April  Fools ! 
And  then  I  laugh  and  laugh  until  my  sunshine  dries  my 

tears, 
Because  though  foolish  April  Fools  those  April  Fools  are 

dears ! 

For  some  are  foolish  flowers  that  get  out  of  bed  too  soon, 

Mistaking  April's  laughter  for  the  call  of  May  or  June ; 

And  some  are  foolish  children  who  get  out  of  bed  too  late, 

And  go  to  school  with  tousled  hair  and  most  unseemly  gait ; 

And  some  are  foolish  grown-ups.     But,  in  strictest  con- 
fidence, 

I  think  .  .  .  Don't  you?  't  is  time  that  these  should  have 
some  common-sense ! 

Ha  ha,  ha  ha,  ha  ha,  ha  ha!     Oh,  dear.  Oh,  dear,  Oh, 
dear! 

I  am  the  saddest  and  the  gladdest  month  of  all  the  year ! 

[Exit  April.] 

[Enter  May.] 

May. 

Oh,  I'm  the  merry  month  of  May, 
The  time  of  white  and  tender  green 
That  nature  makes  a  gala  day! 


16  FESTIVAL  PLAYS 

Of  May-crownod  queens  I  am  the  queen. 
The  happy,  singing  lieart  of  spring — 
A  maiden  turning  seventeen. 

The  fairies  weave  a  magic  ring 
About  my  footsteps  where  I  roam : 
I  have  not  learned  that  nettles  sting. 

Beneath  the  blue  of  Heaven's  dome. 
Brushed  by  a  feather  from  Time's  wing, 
The  world  at  large  I  call  my  home. 

Where  flowers  bloom  and  linnets  sing 
Within  the  heart,  is  aye  my  home, 
The  shrine  of  May,  the  soul  of  spring! 

[Exit  May.] 

[Enter  June.] 

June. 

See!     The  Heavens  beam  more  brightly. 

Days  are  strewn 
Flowerful,  like  gardens  sightly  .  .  . 

I  am  June ! 

Hark!     The  bird-note  sounds  more  tender. 

Sweetest  rune 
To  my  praises  poets  render  .  .  . 

I  am  June ! 

Speed  the  parting,  hail  the  comer, 

Sun,  stars,  moon! 
I'm  the  rose,  sweetheart  of  summer  .  .  . 

I  am  June !     [Exit  June.] 


FATHER  TIME  AND  HIS  CHILDREN         17 

[July  and  August  enter  together.] 

August. 
August  is  my  name,  and  I  .  .  . 

July. 
[Interrupts.] 
I  speak  first.     I  am  July. 

[Together.] 
Hand  in  hand  we  come. 

August. 

Because ! 

July. 
That's  no  reason.     Nature's  laws! 

August. 

Nature's  laws?     Same  thing!     Because! 

[Together.] 
We  together  on  our  ways 
Scatter  summer  holidays. 

July. 

All  the  joys  that  we  unfold 
Children  would  not  change  for  gold. 

August. 
Nor  would  teachers,  I  am  told! 


18  FESTIVAL  PLAYS 

July. 

Boating  'mid  the  lily  pads, 
Swimming;  fishing  for  the  lads  .  .  . 

August. 
With  a  worm  upon  a  hook ! 

July. 
Or  with  interesting  book  .  .  . 

August. 

[Interrupts.] 
Dozing  in  some  shady  nook ! 

July. 

Picking  berries  by  the  road; 
Eiding  on  a  haycart's  load ! 

[Together.] 
Oh,  the  pleasures  that  we  bring  .  .  . 

August. 

Sitting  idly  in  a  swing, 
Just  not  doing  anything! 

[Together.] 
But,  alas!  our  song  must  close. 
Summer  passes  with  the  rose ! 

[August  starts  to  go.     July  restrains  August.] 


FATHER  TIME  AND  HIS  CHILDREN         19 

July. 
Wait  until  July  has  passed ! 

August. 

[Yawns.] 
Xothing  done  from  first  to  last ! 
iS[othing  wears  one  out  so  fast! 

[Exeunt  July  and  August.] 

September. 

It  is  easy  to  remember  tlie  enchanting  month  September, 
With  its  mellow  days,  and  nights  starbright  and  clear, 
When  Jack  Frost  starts  to  make  merry  then  red  leaf  and 

scarlet  berry 
And  the  purpling  grape  proclaim  that  autumn's  here ! 

Maples  flame  upon  the  grey  side  of  the  mountains,  and 
the  wayside 

Golden-rod,  gold-hearted  asters  now  adorn : 

Like  old  friends  returned  from  places  far  away  we  greet 
their  faces 

As  we  hasten  to  the  husking  of  the  corn. 

There  are  dry  leaves  for  the  raking,  there  are  bonfires  for 
the  making; 

There  are  ruddy  apples  heaped  upon  the  grass ; 

And  in  spells  of  stormy  weather,  in  some  attic,  barn,  to- 
gether. 

Oh,  how  gaily  do  we  make  the  moments  pass ! 


20  FESTIVAL  PLAYS 

Aye,  in  sport  and  happy  pastime  we  were  quite  forgetting 

class-time 
As  it  swiftly  steals  upon  us  unawares, 
With  its  sums  that  must  be  slated,  and  its  dates  that  won't 

stay  dated, 
And  the  rocky  road  to  learning's  many  snares! 

Then,  as  misers  hoard  their  treasure,  so  we  count  our 
days  of  pleasure. 

Days  that  slip  away  as  thread  reels  off  a  spool, 

Till  resounding  lamentation  marks  the  close  of  the  vaca- 
tion. 

As  we  gather  up  our  books  and  start  for  school ! 

[Exit  September.] 

[Enter  October.] 

'"■''■■y-;uii' 

October. 

Who  says  my  month  is  dismal,  sober? 
Now  that's  a  libel  on  October! 

The  winds  come  tumbling  from  the  hills, 

Like  boys  at  play; 
Like  happy  girls  the  mountain  rills 

Dance  on  their  way. 

The  trees  wear  coats  of  golden  brown ; 

Each  breeze  that  stirs 
From  chestnut  boughs  is  bringing  down 

The  ripened  burrs. 


FATHER  TIME  AND  HIS  CHILDREN         21 

Then,  when  al)road  the  spirits  flit, 

Unheard,  unseen, 
A  night  of  revels  they  permit  .  .  . 

All  Hallowe'en. 

For  apples  in  a  tub  you  duck. 

Or  seek  to  know 
The  spell  to  bring  you  love  and  luck 

Prom  candle's  glow ; 

Or  in  a  shadowed  looking-glass 

Your  future  lot 
You  may  behold  behind  you  pass. 

Or  you  may  not ! 

A  merry  month  indeed,  not  sober. 
I  ought  to  know,  for  I'm  October! 

[Exit  October.] 

[Enter  November.] 

November. 

November's  the  month  for  whole-hearted  thanksgiving; 
For  thanks  for  your  being,  and  thanks  for  your  living; 
For  plenty  to-day,  and  enough  for  to-morrow; 
For  freedom  from  sorrow,  or  hope  beyond  sorrow. 
And  if  for  naught  else  are  you  thankful,  remember : 

BE   THANKFUL   YOU    STILL   ARE   ALIVE   IN"   NOVEMBER! 

[Exit  November.] 


22  FESTIVAL  PLAYS 

[Enter  December.] 

December. 

There  are  snowdrifts  by  the  wayside,  there  is  writing  on 

the  pane, 
Where  Jack  Frost  lias  left  a  message  about  winter  come 

again ; 

There's  that  tingling  in  the  blood  and  there  are  sleigh- 
bells  in  the  air. 

There  is  coasting  down  the  hills,  and  slipping,  sliding, 
ev'rywhere ! 

There's  a  stocking  by  the  chimney  hung  on  Christmas  eve 
because 

There's  a  chance  you'll  have  a  visit  from  our  old  friend 
Santa  Claus. 

There's  a  bright  star  in  the  Heavens  that  proclaimed  a 
wondrous  birth 

When  the  Chosen  Child  of  Children  brought  His  Christ- 
mas day  to  earth; 

There  are  mistletoe  and  holly  in  the  woods  to  deck  the  hall. 

And 
Here's  the  Christmas  spirit  wishing  Merry  Christmari  to 
you  all !     [Exit  December.] 

Time. 

[Blows  a  hlost.] 
What,  ho!     Stand  forth,  all  yc,  my  children! 
[The  Months  appear.] 


FATHER  TIME  AND  HIS  CHILDREN         23 

Time. 
These  are  my  children,  my  children  dear. 

Months. 
Yes,  we  are  the  Twelve  Months  of  the  Year ! 

Time. 

Every  year,  for  a  bite  and  sup, 
I  gobble  them  up ! 

Months. 
Gobbles  us  up ! 

Time. 

And  every  year,  despite  my  pain, 
They  bob  up  again ! 

Months. 

Bob  up  again ! 

Time. 

Throughout  the  world,  in  every  clime; 
And  so  't  will  be,  to  the  End  of  Time  ! 

Months. 

Throughout  the  world,  in  every  clime; 
And  so  't  will  be,  to  the  End  of  Time  ! 
[Dance  and  sing.] 


24i 


FESTIVAL  PLAYS 


With  our  play  days,  jolly  days;  heydays  and  holidays! 

May  days  and  mirth  days ;  gala  days  and  birthdays ! 

Olden  days;  new  days;  golden  days  and  blue  days! 

Work  days  and  school-days ;  shirk  days,  April  Fool  days ! 

Sundays  and  sleek  days ;  wonder  days  and  week-days ! 

Sundays  and  Mondays ;  rather  underdone  days ! 

Mondays  and  Tuesdays ;  please-to-pay-your-dues  days ! 

Tuesdays  and  Wednesdays ;  women's  days  and  men's  days ! 

Wednesdays  and  Thursdays;  kittens'  days  and  curs'  days! 

Thursdays  and  Fridays;  up-and-do-or-die  days! 

Fridays  and  Saturdays ;  mad-as-a-hatter  days ! 

[They  form  a  ring  about  Time  and  dance  round  him; 
repeating  the  song,  while  Time  in  the  centre  re- 
peats his  dance  and  song,  "Quich  time  and  slack 
time,"  etc.] 

CURTAIN, 


S^ 


TERTULLA'S  GARDEN 

or 

THE  MIRACLE  OF  GOOD 

ST.  VALENTINE 

(founded  on  a  legend) 

Valentine's  Day 


TERTULLA'S  GARDEN 

or 

THE  MIRACLE  OF  GOOD 

ST.  VALENTINE 

Characters 

A^ALENTixus,  a  priest  of  the  Christian  Church  in  Rome. 

AsTERius,  chief  officer  of  the  Prefect  Calpurnius. 

Pertixax,  overseer  of  farm  and  gardens  at  the  country 
villa  of  AsTERius. 

Xerva,  a  hoy,  servant  in  the  toivn  house  of  Asterius. 

Tertulla  and  Quartilla,  unmarried  daughters  of  As- 
terius. 

Maronis,  a  ivoman  servant  in  attendance  on  Tertulla 
and  Quartilla. 

Other  servants. 

Time:  The  fourteenth  of  February  [the  sixteenth  day  he- 
fore  the  Kalends  of  March]  during  the  reign  of  the 
Roman  Emperor  Claudius  II   [A.  D.  36S-270]. 

Scene:  A  room,  in  the  town  house  of  Asterius.  The 
scene  shows  a  room  furnished  in  Roman  style,  hut 
plainly,  with  table,  chair,  bench  and  stool.  High  up 
on  one  wall  is  an  aperture  with  wooden  shutters,  now 
open  to  admit  light  and  air.  Through  this  luindow 
may  he  seen  the  branches  of  a  tree,  bare  of  leaf,  yet 
with  buds  swelling,  and  a  glimpse  of  sly.  In  the 
27 


28  FESTIVAL  PLAYS 

same  wall  is  a  door  which  gives  exit  to  the  lane  at  the 
hack  of  the  house.  On  the  other  side  is  a  curtained 
opening  to  another  room..  .On  the  table  are  writing 
materials  of  the  hind  in  use  at  the  time.  Seated  so 
as  to  catch  the  light  Valentinus  is  busily  engaged 
in  writing.  Enter  Nerva  bearing  a  jar  of  steaming 
pottage,  ivith  a  spoon,  also  a  platter  with  a  square, 
fiat  caJce  of  bread. 

Nerva. 

Behold,  your  supper,  Valentinus!  [He  sets  down  his 
burden.]  Supper,  I  say.  And  though  but  prisoner's 
fare,  yet,  through  some  bewitchment  you  exercise  over  the 
entire  household,  myself  excepted,  seasoned  with  the  cook's 
best  art!     [He  snijfs  the  pottage.]     M-m-m! 

Quaetilla. 

[Head  between  the  curtains.]  Bo!  .  .  .  Valentinus! 
Tilla  says  Bopeep! 

Valentinus. 

Ah,  my  little  Quartilla !  One  sixtieth  portion  of  an  hour 
and  I  shall  have  done !  .  .  .   [Still  engrossed  with  work.] 

Quartilla. 

Sh !  [She  enters  on  tiptoe,  and  one  sees  that  she  is  an 
attractive  child.] 

Nerva. 

Wliat  have  you  there,  Quartilla?  [He  tries  to  help  him- 
self from  a  basket  of  dainties  she  carries.]  What,  cheese 
cakes,  almond  cakes,  and  little  tarts !     M-m-m  ! 


TERTULLA'S  GARDEN  29 

QUARTILLA. 

Nerva  !  Audacious  one,  forbear !  These  are  for  Valen- 
tinus ! 

Nerva. 

Wasted  on  him,  when  all  day  he  does  nothing  but  spoil 
good  parchment  with  tlie  Juice  of  ths  cuttle-fish,  only  paus- 
ing to  mend  his  split  reed,  or  erase  a  mark  with  pumice- 
stone  J 

QUARTILLA. 

He  writes  words  of  comfort  to  his  afflicted  people  whom 
our  godlike  Emperor  thinks  fit  to  persecute ! 

Nerva. 

[Devouring  a  tart.]  Persecute!  By  the  immortal  gods 
I  like  such  persecution ! 

QUARTILLA, 

Peace,  brazen  one!  [She  goes  to  the  curtains.]  Enter, 
Pertinax,  and  gaze  on  our  distinguished  guest! 

Nee-va. 

Distinguished  guest!  A  jail-bird  whom  the  jail  is  too 
full  to  hold,  and  so  committed  by  the  Prefect  Calpurnius 
to  the  care  of  my  master,  Asterius,  and  in  his  absence  to 
mine!     Distinguished   guest,   forsooth! 


30  FESTIVAL  PLAYS 

Pertinax. 

[Enters,  a  manly  young  fellow  of  pleasing  personality. 
His  arms  are  full  of  flowering  hranclies,  also  he  carries  a 
basket  of  floivers.]      So  this  is  Quartilla's  wizard! 

ISTerva. 

Quartilla's  wizard,  everybody's  wizard.     Well  may  you 

say  so !  How  else  but  by  wizardry  do  you  account  for  As- 
terius  sending  him  dainties  from  his  own  table  .  .  .  As- 
terius  who  seals  up  the  very  salt-cellar  in  his  thrift ! 

QUARTILLA. 

[Laughs.]  Hush!  That  is  my  secret!  I  steal  them 
for  him !  Though  I  present  them  to  him  with  my  father's 
greetings,  else,  so  honest  is  he,  he  would  make  me  put  them 
])ack!  [The  Others  exclaim..]  Yet,  do  you  know,  some- 
times I  fancy  my  father  sees  the  theft,  but  turns  his  head 
aside ! 

Nerva. 

Magic!  [Going.]  By  the  gods  and  goddesses,  why  am 
not  I  a  Christian  and  a  prisoner ! 

Valentinus. 

[Laying  work  aside.]  These  lengthening  days  tempt 
me  to  prolong  work!  Now,  Tilla;  is  it  a  doll  to  be 
mended,  or  a  table  in  weights  and  measures  to  be  learned, 
or  .  .  .   [He  pauses,  seeing  Pertinax.] 


TERTULLA'S  GARDEN  SI 

QUARTILLA. 

This  is  Pertinax,  overseer  at  my  father's  farm ! 

Valentinus. 
Greetings  to  you,  Pertinax! 

Pertinax. 

And  to  you  kindly,  Valentinus.  May  the  blessing  of 
the  gods  be  to  you  as  a  plenteous  year's  harvest !  [He  sets 
down  his  hurde7i.]  Though  I  am  told  that  you  Christians 
no  longer  believe  in  our  ancient  gods  of  Rome ! 

Valentinus. 
But  we  believe  in  blessings,  from  whatever  source! 

Pertinax. 

That  lies  beyond  my  comprehension.  But  then,  I  am 
told,  you  work  miracles ! 

Quartilla. 

Indeed  he  does!  He  has  mended  my  doll's  nose,  and 
made  me  remember  how  many  quarts  of  water  you  can 
pour  into  an  amphora ! 

Neeva. 

[Entering  with  an  amphora  of  water  while  she  speaks.] 
As  if  anyone  could  not  do  as  much! 


32  FESTIVAL  PLAYS 

Qdartilla. 
None  other  has  ever  done  it,  all  the  same ! 

Neeva. 

[Arms  aJcimbo.]  Come,  then,  wizard;  prove  yourself! 
dispose  for  us  some  prodigy ! 

Valentinus. 
What,  Xerva,  would  you  consider  such? 

Neeva. 

Oh,  that  a  hen  should  crow,  or  a  black  dog  should  sud- 
denly bound  through  the  room,  or  a  snake  come  down  the 
pipe  into  the  cistern,  or  that  the  statue  of  Jupiter  should 
laugh ! 

Valentinus. 

None  of  which  things  can  I  bring  to  pass !  Nor  do  I 
call  them  miracles ! 

[Nerva  laughs,  sneering.] 

Pertinax. 
How,  sir,  do  you  define  a  miracle? 

Quartilla. 
Instruct  them,  Valentinus!     Give  them  proof! 


TERTULLA'S  GARDEN 


Valentinus. 


[Rolling  up  his  parchment,  thoughtfully.]  Hm!  Well, 
then,  will  you,  Pertinax,  and  you,  Nerva,  walk  a  few  paces 
from  me  toward  the  door? 

QUARTILLA. 

[Dancing  with  joy.]      A  proof!     A  demonstration! 

Valentinus. 
Not  so  !     Merely  a  definition !  .  .  .  Toward  the  door  1 

Nerva. 

[Moching,  though  complying.]  WTiich,  no  doubt,  will 
fly  open  of  its  own  accord  at  our  approach ! 

[The  Two  comply,  walhing  toward  the  door.] 

QUARTILLA. 

[Dancing  about.]     Now  you'll  see;  you'll  see! 

[With  his  rolled  parchment  Valentinus  gives  each 
youth  a  sharp  blow  across  the  shoulders.  With  an 
indignant  cry  they  turn  about.] 

Pertinax. 
Now,  by  Hercules  .  .  .    ! 

Nerva. 
May  Castor  and  Pollux  rend  me  if  I  see  ... ! 


34  FESTIVAL  PLAYS 

Valentinus. 
[Mildly.]     Did  you  feel  that  blow,  Pertinax? 

Peetinax. 
By  Hercules,  how  should  I  not  do  so! 

Valentinus. 
Ahl     And  you,  Nerva? 

Nerva. 
By  Castor  and  Pollux,  am  I  a  stone ! 

Valentinus, 

Ah !     Well,  it  would  have  been  a  miracle  if  you  had  not 
felt  it ! 

The  Two  look  rather  discomfited,  then  Pertinax 
laughs,  seeing  the  humour  of  it,  while  Nerva  goes, 
crest-fallen.] 

Quartilla, 

[Recovering  from  delighted  mirth.]  Oh,  that  was 
lovely !  But,  come,  now.  Pertinax  has  a  secret  to  confide 
in  you.  Meanwhile  eat  your  supper.  It  is  past  the  ninth 
hour,  and  all  day  you  have  worked  fasting !  Oh,  not  that 
bread !  My  father's  greetings  and  will  you  partake  of  this ! 
[Substitutes  fine  bread  from  her  basket  for  that  which 
Nerva  has  brought,  whereon  Nerva  at  the  curtains 
coughs.]  Now,  Pertinax!  \Vliat,  bashful?  Then  I'll 
tell !     He  writes  poetry !     Beautiful  poetry ! 


TERTULLA'S  GARDEN  85 


Peetinax. 

[Modestly,  though  flattered.]  Oh,  modest  strophes  that 
call  for  an  indulgent  ear !  Numbers  whose  measures  course 
through  my  brain  while  I  superintend  the  pruning  and 
gi-afting,  the  ploughing  and  planting!  As  for  instance, 
by  your  leave!     [Taking  out  a  scroll  he  reads.] 

LOVE  CAPTIVE 

Love  Captive  bound  the  Muses  fast 

With  garlands  fair! 
Love  into  prison  then  they  cast. 

In  Beauty's  care ! 
When  Venus  fain  would  set  him  free 

Love  ransomed  will  not  go  his  way, 
Since,  if  a  youth,  ensnared  he  be, 

A  slave  forever  Love  will  stay ! 

QUARTILLA. 

[Rapturously.]     Is  it  not  heavenly? 

A'^ALENTINUS. 

Truly  it  has  ever  been  a  favourite  of  mine  since  in  my 
schoolboy  days  I  conned  my  Anacreon !  [Pertinax  looks 
discomfited,  Quartilla  sympathetic,  while  Nerva,  look- 
ing in  at  the  curtains,  bursts  into  peals  of  laughter.] 

Neeva. 

Anacreon !  By  Momus,  but  that's  funny  I  Anacreon, 
indeed,  my  poet! 


36  FESTIVAL  PLAYS 

Pektinax. 

[Seizing  on  Neeva.]  Shameless  one  than  whom  none 
is  more  contemptible !  To  perdition  with  you !  May  the 
gods  give  you  }  our  deserts !  May  you  be  buffeted  with 
fists,  jerked  with  rods,  pricked  with  goads,  pinched  with 
red-hot  tongs,  roasted  over  a  scorching  fire,  and  thrown 
to  wild  beasts  to  be  devoured ! 


Nerva. 

Help,  help !  Hercules,  I  invoke  thy  aid !  Oh,  I'm  de- 
stroyed utterly ! 

QUARTILLA. 

[Dancing  for  joy.]  Thumbs  up!  Don't  spare  him, 
Pertinax !  Thumbs  up !  [She  presses  her  thumbs  up- 
ward in  the  manner  of  the  spectators  at  a  gladiatorial  con- 
test when  they  wished  the  vanquished  contestant  to  he 
slain.] 

Valentinus. 

[Interposing,  rescues  Nerva.]  There,  there!  That  is 
punishment  enough  for  youthful  levity! 

Pertinax, 

[Sinks  into  a  seat  and  wipes  a  heated  hrow.]  Levity? 
No  cork  on  water  was  ever  of  character  more  light!  Had 
I  you  under  me  at  the  farm  .  .  .  [Threatens  Nerva  who 
runs  off.]   ...  I'd  change  your  tune ! 


TERTULLA'S  GARDEN  37 

Neeva. 
[As  he  goes,  taunting.]     Anacreon!     Ha,  ha!     Anac- 


reon 


Peetinax. 


Master,  I  confess  to  the  theft  of  an  older  poet's  words, 
but  the  feeling  they  clothe  is  all  my  own,  generated  here ! 
[Hand  on  breast.]  Suffer  me  to  explain!  But,  first, 
Quartilla,  leave  us ! 

QUAETILLA. 

[Grumbling.]  As  usual !  Whenever  things  become  in- 
teresting it  is,  "Quartilla,  leave  us !" 

Valentines. 

How  fares  our  sister  Tertulla  whom  not  since  early 
morning  have  I  seen? 

QUAETILLA. 

Not  well! 

Peetinax. 

[Starting  up,  agitated.]  ^\Tiat!  Tertulla.  .  .  Asteria 
Tertia  ...  she  is  ill? 

QUAETILLA. 

Oh,  not  ill!  Tulla  is  sad.  All  day  Tulla  sits  apart 
and  sighs,  "Eheu  I  Woe  is  me!"  And  all  because  my 
father  has  not  taken  her  as  usual  to  the  country ! 


38  FESTIVAL  PLAYS 

Valentinus. 
Tertulla  has  fewer  pleasures  than  tliose  who  can  see ! 

QUARTILLA. 

That  is  true!  Wait!  [She  has  an  inspiration.]  I 
have  a  way  to  cheer  her!  I'll  tell  her  Pertinax  is  here! 
[About  to  go.] 

Peetinax. 

[Greatly  agitated.]  The  gods  forbid!  Quartilla,  if  so 
you  do,  never  again  will  I  pluck  sweet  pears  for  you  and 
grapes  and  pomegranates  when  you  steal  out  to  me  in  the 

orchard ! 

Quartilla. 

[Teasing.]  See  now  how  frightened  he  is !  One  would 
think  my  poor  sister  to  be  accursed,  the  way  he  always 
runs  from  her !  However  as  I  love  sweet  pears  and  grapes 
and  pomegranates  I  promise  I  won't  tell ! 

Peetinax. 
The  heavens  reward  you ! 

Qdaetilla. 
[Running  off.]     I'll  make  her  guess  it  for  herself! 

Pertinax. 

[Sighs.]  Eheu!  Wretched  I!  Master  .  .  .  [He  waxes 
confidential.]     I  have  a  secret!     I  love! 


TERTULLA'S  GARDEN  89 

Valentinus. 
In  the  springtime  of  your  life  and  of  the  year  why  not? 

Pektinax. 

T\^iy  not,  indeed!     But  .  .  .  There  is  a  but! 

Valentinus. 

As  always! 

Pertinax. 
But  never  was  a  but  so  insurmountable  as  mine ! 

Valentinus. 

Again,  as  always ! 

Pertinax. 

While  occupying  an  enviable  position  as  overseer  of  my 
master's  farm  I  should  be  happier  as  a  public  slave  work- 
ing in  the  stone-quarries  or  the  mill !  Worn  to  the  heart 
with  longing  I  am  of  mortals  the  most  wretched!  I  can- 
not sleep,  I  cannot  eat!  lAhsent-mindedly  he  helps 
himself  to  a  little  calce  from  Qdartilla's  basket  and  nib- 
bles it  with  relish.]  To  such  a  degree  has  love  inflamed 
me  that,  but  for  my  tears,  I  should  be  consumed  with  fire  I 
My  wits  wander  like  cows  at  pasture!  No  longer  do  I 
remember  when  to  sow  the  three  months'  wheat,  or  how  to 
set  out  a  rose-bed !  A  row  of  lilies  or  of  leeks,  it  is  all  the 
same  to  me!     [Sighs  deeply.] 


40  FESTIVAL  PLAYS 

Valentinus. 

Not  so,  judging  by  the  fruits  of  your  husbandry !  [In- 
dicating the  flowers.] 

Peetinax. 

Ali-h !  These  are  different !  These  are  sacred  blooms 
.  .  .  my  source  of  inspiration !  These  come  from  Ter- 
tulla's  garden ! 

Valentinus. 

[Understanding  the  position.]     Hm!     TertuUa! 

Peetinax. 

[Corroborating.]  Even  so!  Tertulla!  I  have  looked 
with  inclination  on  the  maid  from  the  day  when  I,  a  by- 
standing  youth,  drew  her  from  the  reach  of  the  fateful 
flames  of  her  mother's  funeral  pile  into  which  in  her  grief 
she  was  about  to  cast  herself  ...  an  act  of  filial  piety 
which,  combined  with  excessive  weeping,  cost  her  the  sight 
of  her  lovely  eyes!  When,  rewarding  me,  Asterius  pur- 
chased mj,  I  rejoiced  in  the  exchange  of  masters,  for  the 
opportunity  this  would  afford  me  constantly  to  behold  my 
divinity-on-earth !  I  have  watched  her  grow  like  the  sap- 
ling trees  under  my  care  .  .  .  and  with  her  growth  and 
mine  my  love  has  kept  apace !  The  garden  she  calls  her 
own  have  I  made  my  especial  care,  tending  it  not  only 
by  day,  but  also  by  night  when  none  might  guess  my  se- 
cret, till  the  fame  of  Tertulla's  garden  is  a  proverb !  [He 
pauses  a  second  for  hreath.]  To  me  she  is  the  breath  of 
life !     But  .  .  .  Eheu !     Woe's  me ! 


TERTULLA'S  GARDEN  41 

Valentinus. 
You  fear  the  opposition  of  Asterius? 

Pertinax. 

That,  doubtless,  would  be  terrible,  since,  when  roused, 
he  blusters  like  the  Adriatic  in  a  storm!  However,  the 
more  violent  the  tempest,  the  shorter-lived!  With  your 
all-powerful  intercession,  Valentinus,  Asterius  might  be 
reconciled!  He  might  suffer  me  with  my  hoardings  to 
buy  my  freedom,  and  since,  through  the  merits  of  the  gods 
and  of  my  ancestors,  my  name  is  no  less  honourable  than 
his  own,  and  since  no  wooers  besiege  his  door  for  his  blind 
daughter  he  might  be  brought  to  look  with  favour  on  me 
as  a  son-in-law!     Lies  not  the  trouble  there! 

Valentinus. 

Then  where? 

Pertinax. 
With  Tertulla  !     With  the  maid  herself ! 

Valentinus. 
You  mean  she  holds  you  in  aversion! 

Pertinax. 

Worse,  worse!  0  by  a  thousand  times  worse!  Myself 
as  Pertinax  she  hardly  knows,  hardly  ever  has  thrown  a 
word  to,  yet  she  loves  me !     More,  she  worships  me !  .  .  . 


4S  FESTIVAL  PLAYS 

She  thinks  me  an  emissary  from  the  immortal  gods,  if  not, 
indeed,  myself  a  god ! 

Valentinus. 
You  offer  riddles  to  one  called  Valentinus,  not  CEdipus ! 

Pertinax. 

Let  me  unravel  it  that  you  may  extricate  me  from  the 
sacrilegious  maze  in  which,  all-unheeding,  I,  wretchedest 
of  men,  have  lost  myself !  .  .  .  Thus  did  it  begin !  .  .  . 
But,  hark!  [Voices  are  heard  in  tJie  adjoining  room.] 
She  comes !     Tertulla ! 

[In  great  perturbation  he  hastily  opens  the  door  and 
passes  out.] 

Maronis. 

[In  the  adjoining  room,  parting  the  curtai7is.]  Come, 
my  honeysuckle-sprig,  and  talk  with  the  disposer  of  prodi- 
gies M'ho  always  comforts  you ! 

[Enter  Maronis  and  Quartilla  leading  Tertulla, 
a  young  girl  of  great  beauty.  Her  hair  hangs 
hose,  she  wears  a  chaplet  and  a  white,  flowing  robe; 
also  her  feet  are  bare,  or  sandaled.  Her  general 
aspect  is  of  one  prepared  to  offer  sacrifice.  Her 
eyes  are  bandaged,  and  her  countenance  and  voice 
are  sad.] 

Tertulla. 
Salutations,  Valentinus ! 


TERTULLAS  GARDEN  43 

Valentinus. 

And  to  you  kindly,  Tertulla !  Whatever  you  wish  I 
desire  it  may  befall  you!  [Tertulla  sighs.]  But  where- 
fore thus  deject  of  countenance? 


I  know  why 


QUARTILLA. 


Tertulla. 


Peace,  Tilla !  At  your  age  how  should  one  compre- 
hend such  matters? 

QUARTILLA. 

Does  one  have  to  be  tall  as  a  fig-tree  to  know  that  you 
are  bursting  with  longing  for  your  garden?  "Eheu ! 
wretchedest  of  women  I  as  many  as  ever  have  been  born ! 
Woe's  me!"     [Mimicking  her  sister.] 

Maronis. 

It  is  true.  If  it  were  not  for  the  bandage  that  you. 
Valentinus,  make  her  wear  she  would  weep  so  immoderately 
that  she  would  be  turned  into  a  river,  like  to  Ilia,  the 
mother  of  Eomulus  and  Eemus! 

Tertulla. 

[Explaining.]  Always,  ever  since  I  was  a  child,  in  the 
days  that  cut  the  month  of  February  in  twain  my  father 
has  taken  me  with  him  to  the  country,  Journeying  thither 
to  give  directions  for  the  spring  work  at  his  farm.     But 


44  FESTIVAL  PLAYS 

this  year,  business  detaining  him  in  town,  he  has  sent  for 
his  overseer  to  come  here  to  him,  instead,  and  so  .  .  . 
Eheu! 

Valentinus. 

But  the  year  is  young.  Barely  have  the  heavens  ceased 
to  scatter  snow  on  the  Albanian  hills.  As  yet  the  relaxing 
earth  suffers  only  the  hardiest  of  her  green  children  to  put 
their  noses  out  of  bed !  Later  you  will  all  go  to  your 
father's  villa,  avoiding  the  scorching  heat  of  dog-star  days ! 

Tertulla. 

Ah,  then  it  will  not  be  the  same !  Then  will  it  be  too 
late. 

Valentinus. 

[Puzzled.]     Too  late? 

Maronis. 

[Explaining.]  If  you  were  not  a  deserving  but  un- 
fortunate Christian,  Valentinus,  you  would  not  have  for- 
gotten that  in  the  days  about  the  Ides  of  February  the 
young  god  Faunus,  protector  of  those  same  green  children 
of  the  earth,  returns  from  his  winter  quarters  in  Arcadia 
to  Italy ! 

Valentinus. 

[Remembering.]  Ah,  true!  Nevertheless  .  .  .  [Still 
puzzled.] 

Maronis. 

[Continuing.]     And  Tertulla  is  wonted  to  celebrate  the 


TERTULLA'S  GARDEN  45 

feast  of  the  Faunalia  at  the  villa,  offering  sacrifice  in  her 
garden  to  the  two-horned  god ! 

Tertulla. 

It  is  indeed  so ! 

[Pertinax  opens  the  door  softly  a  crach  and  peeps  in, 
seen  only  by  Valentinus.] 

Valentinus. 

I  begin  to  understand!  Well,  since  Tertulla  cannot  go 
to  the  country  perhaps  the  country  will  come  to  Tertulla ! 

QUARTILLA. 

[Dancing  about  gleefully.]  A  miracle!  A  prodigy! 
I  said  Valentinus  would  work  one  and  set  things  right ! 

Valentinus. 

My  child,  I  promise  nothing!  But  Tertulla  must  re- 
member that  true  sacrifices  can  be  made  anywhere,  in  coun- 
try or  in  town ! 

Maronis. 

[To  Tertulla.]  Aha,  girl!  Have  I  not  worn  out  my 
tongue  telling  you  as  much  all  day? 

Tertulla. 

But  will  the  god  hear,  missing  me  from  my  accustomed 
place? 


46  FESTIVAL  PLAYS 

Valentinds. 

No  honest  petition  ever  goes  unheeded  anywhere! 

Maronis. 

[Nodding  approval.]  Another  statement  of  my  own, 
and  therefore  full  of  wisdom ! 

Teetulla. 

[To  Valentinus.]  Oh,  how  you  comfort  me!  And 
yet  .  .  .  there  is  something  further! 

Quartilla. 
[Excited.]     Aha!     A  secret! 

Tertulla. 

But  not  for  your  ears,  0  little  pitcher  of  two  handles! 
Go  from  us  awhile ! 

Quartilla. 

[Pouting.]  As  usual  when  things  grow  interesting: 
"Quartilla,  leave  us !"  But  this  time  Valentinus  will  have 
to  use  magic  to  make  me  budge! 

Valentinus. 
Alas !     No  sorcerer  am  I !     Yet,  perhaps  .  .  .  Hark ! 

Quartilla. 
Wliat  do  you  hear? 


TERTULLA'S  GARDEN  47 

Valentinus. 

Surely  not  the  first  swallow,  returning  on  the  wings  of 
the  bird-wind,  and  seeking  where  to  build  a  nest !  Up, 
Tilla!  Let  us  see!  [Mounting  the  bench  he  draws  her 
up,  then  lifts  her  to  the  window.] 

QUARTILLA. 

Oh,  the  wee  darling,  flitting  from  plane  to  cypress,  cy- 
press back  to  plane !  And,  see !  There  goes  a  man  with 
a  ring-dove  in  a  cage !  Come,  Maronis !  We'll  go  buy  it 
of  him!  [Assisted  by  Valentinus  she  scrambles  down 
and  runs  out  into  the  lane.] 

Maronis. 

Oh,  what  a  runabout !  I  should  have  wings  to  my  feet 
like  Mercury  to  keep  up  with  her !  [She  folloivs  Quar- 
TiLLA  out.] 

Tertulla. 

Are  we  alone?  .  .  .  How  wonderful  you  are!  All  your 
perhapses  come  to  pass ! 

Valentinus. 

Perhaps  I  only  "perhaps"  when  I  see  events  well  on 
their  advancing  road ! 

Tertulla. 

But  never  do  they  turn  down  a  side  street!  Never  do 
they  lose  their  way !  Always  they  come,  straight  as  a  bow- 
shot, to  the  door!     Everyone  else  said,  "Afflicted  of  the 


48  FESTIVAL  PLAYS 

gods  for  over-much  grieving  Tertulla  will  never  see 
again!"  But  you  .  .  .  you  said,  "I  promise  notliing,  yet 
perhaps  .  .  ."  And,  now,  though  you  will  not  suffer  me 
to  test  it,  I  feel  that  my  eyes  have  been  born  again ;  that  I 
can  see! 

Valentinus. 

Hush! 

Tertulla. 

Oh,  never  fear;  I  will  keep  my  vow,  not,  without  your 
permission,  to  reveal  this  to  mortal  ears !  But  I,  I  know 
that  so  it  is !  Accordingly  when  you  say,  "Since  Tertulla 
cannot  go  to  the  country  perhaps  the  country  will  come  to 
Tertulla,"  I  feel  sure  that,  in  spite  of  inauspicious  begin- 
nings, all  will  yet  be  well !  And  indeed,  strangely,  ever 
since  I  set  foot  in  the  room  my  nostrils  have  been  filled 
with  the  accustomed  fragrances  from  my  garden ;  my  spirit 
has  received  the  message  of  spring  from  her  harbingers: 
the  hardy  rpse,  and  early  flowering  almond ;  the  branches 
of  a  forth-putting  cherry-tree  on  a  sunny  slope,  and  bloom 
of  narcissus  and  violet  from  the  nurseries !  But  Fau- 
nus  .  .  .  Faunus  himself !  Will  he,  as  is  his  wont,  reveal 
himself  in  this  place,  to  his  handmaiden  ?  That,  Valentinus, 
is  my  great  secret !  To  no  one  heretofore  have  I  disclosed  it ! 
[Again  the  door  is  cautiously  opened,  and  Pertinax  peeps 
in.]  Every  year  in  these  days  the  god  Faunus  himself 
has  accepted  my  sacrifice  in  person,  promising  me  protec- 
tion for  my  fiowers  through  the  coming  season,  a  promise 
which  has  been  miraculously  redeemed !  Work  a  wonder 
for  me,  good  Valentinus!  Bring  it  to  pass  that  the  god 
will  reveal  himself  here,  no  less  than  in  the  country,  to 


TERTULLA'S  GARDEN  49 

his  handmaiden!  [Pertinax  enters  softly;  sighs.] 
What !  do  I  hear  his  footstep  cross  the  threshold  with  a 
sound  as  of  the  favouring  breeze  of  spring?  Faunus! 
Faunus!  Do  you  see  him,  Valentinus?  You  could  not 
mistake  him,  with  his  youthful  countenance  of  great 
beauty,  his  two  horns,  and  feet  like  those  of  a  goat  that  he 
may  skip  lightly  over  the  hills ! 

Valentinus. 

No  such  one  is  manifest  to  my  sight,  Tertulla! 

Tertulla. 

And  yet  .  .  .  and  yet  .  .  0  Faunus,  if  indeed  it  be 
you,  speak!     [With  palms  turned  upward.] 

Pertinax. 

[Sighs.]  The  one  who  always  comes  to  you  at  this  sea- 
son stands  before  you  now,  Tertulla ! 

Tertulla. 

[Ecstatically.]  You  hear!  Valentinus!  You  hear? 
.  .  .  Mark  then,  how  great  the  prodigy  when  the  god 
comes,  invisible  to  mortal  eyes !  0  Faunus,  had  I  ex- 
pected this  I  would  have  brought  the  cheese  and  almond 
cakes  and  little  tarts  you  love ! 

Valentinus. 

These  shall  not  be  wanting !  [Places  Quartilla's  bas- 
ket in  Tertulla's  hand.] 


50  FESTIVAL  PLAYS 

Tertulla. 

0  happy  omen!  Deign  to  accept  them,  deity!  [Per- 
TixAx  /ie?;js  himself  from  the  baslcet.]  But  you  do  not 
partake  of  them  as  wontedly.  [Pertinax,  encouraged 
by  a  kindly  smile  from  Valentinus,  eats.]  That  is  bet- 
ter! Now  Tertulla  knows  that  you  look  on  her  with  fa- 
vour! And  my  garden,  Faunus;  as  heretofore  you  will 
grant  me  abundance  of  bloom  interspersed  with  grateful 
shade  of  strawberry  tree  and  sycamore?  And  linden  dear 
to  honey-gathering  bee? 

Pertinax. 
As  heretofore,  Tertulla! 

Tertulla. 

And  my  friends,  the  flowers :  crocus,  and  anemone,  and 
the   blossom   springing  from   the   blood   of   Hyacinth — ? 

Pertinax. 

[Always  eating  little  calces,  which  Tertulla  heeps  of- 
fering him.]  These,  and  the  twining  ivy,  source  of  poetic 
inspiration ! 

Tertulla. 

And  viburnum,  beloved  of  wayfarers,  and  sleep-bringing 
poppies  ? 

Pertinax. 

And  violet  sweet-scented,  and  the  short-lived  lily. 


TERTULLA'S  GARDEN  51 


Tertulla. 


And  the  amaranth  the  never-fading!  You  see  he  has 
taught  me  all  their  habits  and  their  stories,  Valentinus! 
.  .  .  And  the  rose  and  myrtle  beloved  of  Venus? 

Pertinax. 

These,  these  above  all ! 

Tertulla. 

[Clasping  Jiand  ecstatically.]  0  wonderful!  .  .  .  And 
the  box  trees  cut  into  strange  figures  that  I  can  pass  my 
hands  over :  centurions  with  eagles  on  their  helmets  ? 

Pertinax. 
And  chariots  in  the  circus ! 

Tertulla. 
And  gladiators  fighting? 

Pertinax. 
And  the  sharp  prows  of  sea-conquering  galleys! 

Tertulla. 

Ts  it  not  wonderful,  Valentinus?  But  the  god  has 
ceased  to  eat !  Ah,  Tertulla  was  forgetting !  The  liba- 
tion!     [Claps  hands.]     Wine!     Bring  wine,  Nerva! 


52  FESTIVAL  PLAYS 

Pertinax. 

[Alarmed.]     It  is  not  necessary,  Tertulla! 

Tertulla. 

Nothing  shall  be  omitted  that  pleases  Faunus!  Ho, 
Nerva ! 

Nerva. 

[Appears  between  curtains.]  Nerva  here,  Nerva  there! 
^V^lo  calls  Nerva  now  ? 

Tertulla. 

Impudent  and  brazen  one !  Bring  a  goblet  of  honied 
wine !     My  father's  best ! 

Nerva. 

Wine!     Honied  wine!     What  next!     [He  goes.] 

Pertinax. 

[WJio  fed  hastily  at  Nerva's  approach.]  There  are  oc- 
casions when  one  may  dispense  with  such  ceremonies! 

Tertulla. 

Nothing  shall  be  lacking  from  the  feast,  not  only  as 
propitiation  for  favours  hoped  for,  but  in  gratitude  for 
benefits  received!  Bethink  you  how  wonderful  the  scroll 
you  have  spread  out  before  me,  painting  the  dark  cham- 
bers of  my  spirit  with  blossoms  of  many  colours,  and  filling 
my  life  with  sweet  savours,  and  with  fancies  no  less  sweet ! 


TERTULLA'S  GARDEN  53 

Pertinax. 

Asteria  Tertia,  I  speak  truly  in  saying  that  at  too  high 
a  value  do  you  estimate  the  service  I,  all-joyful,  have 
rendered  you !  Your  own  imagination  divinely  gifted  is 
the  Apelles  that  has  so  pleasingly  depicted  the  wonders 
,of  nature,  heightened,  I  grant  you,  by  assiduous  cultiva- 
tion, in  a  manner  to  adorn  the  chambers  of  your  spirit ! 

Teetulla. 

My  imagination  is  even  as  my  garden  that  had  lain  a 
fallow  waste  fit  only  for  the  hunting  ground  of  hoarse- 
baying  wolves  had  not  Faunus  taken  it  under  his  divine 
protection!  .  .  .  And  now  this  present  miracle  is  indeed 
reserved  :^or  me  alone?  You,  keen-sighted  Valentinus, 
you  do  not  mock  me  with  vain  words,  saying  that  you  do 
not  discern  the  form  of  the  god  ?     Not  a  single  feature  ? 

Valentinus. 

Only  as  all  created  things  are  manifestations  of  the  di- 
vine, Tertulla! 

Tertulla. 

Marvelous!  But  wherefore  tarries  Nerva  with  the  liba- 
tion? 

Nerva. 

[Entering.]  Here's  your  wine!  I  had  to  climb  up  to 
the  wine-cellar  to  find  a  proper  vintage !  All  mixed  with 
our  choicest  honey,  too !  [As  Pertinax  has  retreated  at 
the  sound  of  his  voice  he  sees  Tertulla  standing  in  an 


54,  FESTIVAL  PLAYS 

attitude  of  adoration  before  empty  space,  and  pauses  to 
stare  at  her.]     Well,  now,  what  project  is  the  girl  on  now? 

Tertulla. 

Enter,  Nerva,  fearlessly!  Your  dull  eyes  will  perceive 
no  unexpected  presence ! 

Nerva. 

Truly  a  clever  speech!  [He  sets  doivn  the  goblet,  lin- 
gering to  sniff  at  it.]  M-m-m!  One  would  think  certain 
persons  were  soldiers  celebrating  the  victory  of  the  godlike 
Claudius  over  Goths  and  Allemanes!  By  Bacchus,  there 
are  times  when  I  could  wish  myself  a  persecuted  Christian ! 
[He  goes.     Pertinax  returns.] 

Tertulla. 

[Lifts  the  goblet  from  the  table  and  holds  it  toward 
.Pertinax.]  Take  it,  Faunus,  from  thy  handmaiden! 
[Pertinax  obeys,  drinhing  the  wine.] 

Valentinus. 

[Smiling.]  Ahem!  Not  so  were  libations  poured  in 
my  ante-Christian  days! 

Tertulla. 

[Explaining.]  Faunus  likes  it  best  that  way  rather 
than  spilled  upon  the  ground ! 

Valentinus. 
Not  without  reason !     The  vintage  of  Asterius  is  famed ! 


TERTULLA'S  GARDEN  55 

Tertulla. 

And  now,  0  Deity,  listen,  while  I  reveal  to  you  my  great 
secret  known  only  to  Valentinus  here ! 

A^ALENTINUS. 

[Starting  up,  inter  posltuj.]  Tertulla,  forbear!  Ee- 
member  your  vow ! 

Tertulla. 

[Assenting.]  Not  without  your  permission  to  tell  any 
living  mortal !     But  .  .  . 

Valentinus. 
Then,  till  I  give  you  leave,  forbear ! 

Tertulla. 

[Impetuously.]  But,  Valentinus  .  .  .  that  will  not  be 
breaking  faith !  Faunus  is  no  mortal !  Faunus  is  a  god ! 
Faunus,  he  has  cured  me !  Valentinus  here  has  cured  me ! 
1  can  see !     I  can  see  ! 

[Impetuously  she  tears  the  bandage  from  her  eyes.] 

Peetinax. 

[Startled  and  terrified.]  What\  .  .  .  Ah,  woe  is  me, 
accursed  of  Jupiter  and  sport  of  men !  [Throwing  away 
the  now  emptied  goblet  he  rushes  out,  by  the  door.] 


56  FESTIVAL  PLAYS 

Teetulla. 

[Hands  up  to  her  dazzled  eyes.]  Ah!  The  light!  .  .  . 
[Valentinus  restores  the  bandage,  binding  it  gently  on 
again.]  Faunus!  .  .  .  What  happened,  Valentinus?  .  .  . 
Why  did  the  god  cry  out?  And  has  he  gone?  Eheu! 
Oh,  woe !     Is  he  angry  with  poor  Tertulla  ? 

Valentinus. 
Not  angry;  only  taken  by  surprise! 

Tertulla. 

But  surely  he  does  not  begrudge  me  vision !  Surely 
he  believes  that  Tertulla  seeing  will  serve  him  no  less 
faithfully  than  Tertulla  blind ! 

Maronis. 

[Enters  running,  at  the  door.]  Tulla  ...  I  heard 
Tulla  who  cried  out !     Has  aught  befallen  Tulla  ? 

Valentinus. 
It  is  nothing !     Take  her  where  she  may  rest  awhile  ! 

Maronis. 

Come,  then,  my  honeysuckle-sprig!  Come  with  Ma- 
ronis ! 

Quartilla. 

[Entering,   with   a   bird-cage.]     We   bought  the   dove! 


TERTULLA'S  GARDEN  57 

Oh,  is  my  sister  ill?     I'll  give  it  to  her  to  cheer  her! 
[Follows  after  Tertuljla  who  is  being   led  off  hy  Ma- 

RONIS.] 

Tertulla. 

[BreaTcs  from  Maronis,  returns  to  Valentinus.  Whis- 
pers.] Faunus  .  .  .  you'll  seek  him,  and  plead  with  him 
for  me  ? 

Valentinus. 

I  promise  nothing,  but  I'll  do  my  best ! 

Tertulla. 

[Reassured.]  Ah,  then,  I  know  it  will  come  out  right! 
[She  goes  with  Maronis  and  Quartilla.] 

Pertinax. 

[Returns.]  0  woe,  woe!  A  plague  may  all  the  gods 
and  goddesses  send  upon  you  for  a  Thessalian  sorcerer! 
0  gladly  with  these  two  hands  would  I  choke  you  like  a 
noxious  nettle  and  cast  you  out  to  extreme  and  uttermost 
perdition,  so  abominably  l^y  our  arts  in  restoring  sight 
to  Tertulla  have  you  destroyed  my  happiness ! 

Valentinus. 

Is  that  word  worthy  of  an  incarnate  god? 

Pertinax. 

You  speak  truly!  Blameworthy  am  I  alone!  By  my 
impious  and  sacrilegious  act  I  have  upset  my  apple-wag- 


58  FESTIVAL  PLAYS 

gon  for  all  eternity !  I  am  a  wretch,  one  born  with  all 
the  gods  my  foes !  [He  throws  himself  into  a  chair  and 
covers  his  face  ivith  his  cloak.] 

Nerva. 

[Entering.]  Ho,  Valentinus!  Your  company  is  much 
demanded  in  these  days  it  would  seem !  Maronis  asks  that 
you  will  give  a  soothing  potion  to  Tertulla  who  is  rest- 
less as  the  wind  that  blows  between  the  old  moon  and  the 
new! 

Valentinus. 

Willingly!     [He  goes.] 

Nerva. 

[Noticing  the  door  which  Pertinax  entering  left  ajar.] 
By  Jupiter,  for  a  prison  we  keep  open  house!  [Taking  a 
key  from  his  girdle  he  locks  the  door.]  I  will  kill  two 
flies  with  one  flap,  preventing  thieves  from  entering  and 
jail-birds  from  taking  flight!  [Turning  to  go  he  notices 
Pertinax.]     What,  is  the  lyre  of  Anacreon  unstrung? 

Pertinax. 
[Angrily.]     Silence,  brazen  one! 

Nerva. 

Oh,  if  my  conversation  is  not  desired  I  will  even  stop 
my  mouth,  so  great  my  zeal  to  please !  [He  helps  himself 
to  little  cakes.  Suddenly  the  door  is  tried  from  without.] 
Hear  that!     My  precaution  was  none  too  soon!     [There 


TERTULLA'S  GARDEN  59 

ts  a  violent  knocking  on  the  door.]  Knock  away,  wiioever 
you  may  be  I  My  motto  is  the  same  as  that  of  the  great 
Fabius,  "Hasten  slowly!" 

ASTERIUS. 

[Outside.]      Open!     Open!     Open,   I  say! 

Pertixax. 

[Looks  up.]  It  is  Asterius !  In  this  state  bordering  on 
distraction  I  cannot  meet  him!     [Goes  out.] 

ISTerva. 
[In  a  panic]     My  master !     [Hastens  to  open  the  door.] 

ASTERIUS. 

Why  in  the  daytime  is  the  door  locked? 

Nerva. 
Master,  is  it  not  a  prison? 

Asterius. 

Shameless  one  and  well  named  Nerva  on  account  of 
strength  of  tongue,  have  I  not  allowed  the  freedom  of  the 
lane  by  day  to  my  prisoner  for  exercise?  [Threatens  him 
with  walking -stick.]  A  thousand  lashes  if  ever  again  you 
so  disobey  me ! 


60  FESTIVAL  PLAYS 

Nerva. 

[Going.]  Oh,  very  well!  Only  one  might  think  you 
not  unwilling  that  your  prisoner  should  extend  his  exer- 
cise, going  to  join  his  comrades  who  hide  in  the  Cata- 
combs ! 

ASTERIUS. 

[Going  for  Nerva.]  Now,  get  you  from  me  to  perdi- 
tion everlasting!  [Nerva  runs  off.  Asterius  looks 
about.]  Ho,  Valentinus!  Kindly  saluta  .  .  .  What! 
The  door  was  locked  too  late,  it  seems !  .  .  .  Now,  may  the 
gods  be  praised,  for  it  grieves  me  to  detain  so  holy  a  man 
...  in  which  I  am  more  of  a  well-wisher  to  him  than  to 
myself!  .  .  .  [Valentinus  enters.]  Not  so,  however,  it 
seems !  .  .  .  Ah,  Valentinus !  Save  you !  I  was  Just 
about  to  give  the  alarm,  thinking  you  a  fugitive ! 

Valentinus. 

Kindly  greetings,  Asterius!  .  .  .  Oh,  I  could  not  so 
take  advantage  of  the  most  confiding  of  jailors!  I  was 
with  Tertulla ! 

Asterius. 

[With  anxiety.]  My  child  is  not  ill  again?  [Valen- 
tinus signifies  that  this  is  not  the  case.]  The  gods  reward 
you  for  what  you  have  done  in  bringing  her  to  health! 
My  poor  afflicted  child !     [Sighs  heavily.] 

Valentinus. 

Tertulla  may  yet  find  happiness!  [x\sterius  again 
sighs,  thinking  this  impossible.     Valentinus  lifts  a  spray 


TERTULLA'S  GARDEN  61 

of  blossoms  to  inhale  its  fragrance.]  Your  overseer,  Per- 
tinax,  is  here;  a  youth  of  a  hundred  accomplishments,  it 
seems ! 

ASTEEIUS. 

A  deserving  fellow !  I  bought  him,  as  you  know,  from 
gratitude,  but  never  have  I  repented  me  of  the  investment ! 
Never  does  he  give  orders  to  hoe  the  barley  in  wet  weather 
or  cheat  me  in  the  number  of  elm  and  poplar  saplings 
needed  to  prop  up  the  vines! 

Vaxentinus. 

And  the  generous  Asterius  will  no  doubt  soon  reward 
him  with  his  freedom ! 

Asterius. 

[In  pleased  surprise.]  Now  how  marvellous  that  you 
should  perceive  a  thought  that  as  yet  has  hardly  come  to 
the  surface  of  my  own  mind !  [Again  Valentinds  maJces 
a  deprecating  gesture.]  I  only  wait  some  fitting  oppor- 
tunity, some  general  rejoicing,  to  bring  about  this  matter ! 

Valentinus. 

What  better  than  the  recovery  of  tlie  daughter  he  in  a 
day  gone  by  rescued  from  the  funeral  flames? 

Asterius. 

Felicitous  omen!  It  shall  be  done  immediately!  [He 
claps  his  hands.]  Ho,  Pertinax!  .  .  .  Nerva,  summon 
my  household!     [Pertinax  enters,  then  Neeva.] 


62  FESTIVAL  PLAYS 

Valentinus. 

Softly!  Let  us  go  softly!  [Tertulla  enters  with 
Maronis  follotved  by  Quartilla.]  First,  Tertulla  has 
something  to  tell  her  father ! 

ASTERIUS. 

[Arms  out  to  Tertulla.]  My  child!  My  poor,  af- 
flicted child!  Well,  what  has  she  to  tell  me:  that  good 
Valentinus  has  made  her  strong  and  well  again? 

Tertulla. 
Oh,  more  .  .  .  far  more  than  that!     Look,  father,  .  .  . 

Valentinus. 

[Interposing.]  Wait!  [He  loosens  the  bandage  that 
Tertulla  still  wears.]  Give  me  what  you  hold,  Maronis ! 
[Maronis  hands  him  a  mirror  with  a  handle,  worn  at  her 
girdle.]  Keep  your  eyes  closed,  Tulla!  [He  holds  the 
mirror  in  front  of  her.]  Now  .  .  .  what  see  you? 
[Great  general  excitement.] 

Tertulla, 

[Loolcs  with  interest  into  mirror.]  Oh  .  .  .  why  .  .  . 
it  is  a  painting  of  one  of  my  older  sisters ! 

Valentinus. 

What!  A  pretty  girl  who  does  not  recognise  her  own 
face! 


M^; 


^■-x 


'What!  A  pretty  girl  who  does  not  recognize  her  own   face!" 


TERTULLA'S  GARDEN  63 

[There  is  general  amusement  which  is  however  near 
to  tears.] 

Tertulla. 

Why,  it  never  can  be  I !  Why,  last  time  I  looked  in  a 
glass  I  saw  .  .  . 

Valentinus. 

[Putting  QuARTiLLA  in  front  of  Tertulla.]     This! 

Tertulla. 

Oh,  my  little  sister !  Tilla  is  what  Tulla  was,  when  her 
sky  grew  dark ! 

Quartilla. 

Dear  Tulla! 

[They  embrace  tenderly.] 

Valentinus. 

Come,  now!  There  is  one  other  who  can  wait  no 
longer!  [He  turns  Tertulla  toward  Asterius  who 
stands  rigid  and  speechless  with  emotion.] 

Tertulla. 

[Doultfulhj.]  Oh  .  .  .  that  gentleman.  .  .  .  Surely  he 
never  can  be  Jupiter!      [In  aice-strucl;  tone.] 

Asterius. 
[Holds  out  his  arms  to  her.]     Tulla  .  .  .  my  child ! 


64  FESTIVAL  PLAYS 

Tertclla. 
[Running  to  his  embrace.]     My  father!     0  my  father! 

ASTERIUS. 

She  sees  ,  .  .  my  daughter  sees,  thanks  to  the  immortal 
gods  and  goddesses,  and  this  blessed  worker  of  prodigies ! 

Valentinus. 

Oh,  merely  a  little  skill,  reinforced  by  healing  onion 
juice  and  oil  of  balsam ! 

ASTERIUS. 

"We  must  have  a  feast,  a  regular  ])anquet  to  celebrate  the 
glorious  event !  Nerva,  give  orders  that  this  shall  be  done 
instantly ! 

Tertulla. 

Oh,  Joyful  day !  A  banquet !  But  first,  Maronis,  come, 
help  me  improve  the  fashion  of  my  hair!  [Loohing  at 
herself  critically  in  the  mirror.] 

Maronis. 

[Laughing  happily.]  Hear  that  now  I  Like  Narcissus 
she  will  fall  in  love  with  her  own  reflection!  [Tertulla 
goes  with  Maronis  and  Qdartilla,  all  talking  happily.] 

ASTERIUS. 

[To  Valentinus.]  Ask  of  me,  demand  what  you  will 
in  repayment !     It  is  yours  unchallenged !     Meanwhile  to 


TERTULLA'S  GARDEN  65 

each  of  my  household  liis  heart's  desire!  For  you,  you 
impudent  rascal  Nerva,  remission  of  all  the  floggings  you 
already  deserve,  and  will  deserve  during  the  coming  hebdo- 
mad. Also  all  the  sweets  you  can  stuff  yourself  with !  As 
for  you,  Pertinax,  my  faithful  Pertinax,  on  the  soonest  day 
that  the  Prcetor  sits  in  Court,  you  shall  go  before  him  to 
have  the  rod  of  liberty  laid  on  your  head !  More.  In  ad- 
dition to  your  freedom  will  I  bestow  on  you  the  beginnings 
and  makings  of  a  farm  of  your  own ! 

Pertinax, 

[Overcome  with  joy.]     Freedman  and  landed  proprietor 
.  .  .  I  .  .  ,  Pertinax!     Oh,   felicitous   omen! 


ASTERIUS. 

In  gratitude  I  declare  myself  follower  of  your  faith, 
Valentinus  !     Myself  and  my  entire  household ! 

Valentinus. 
Again,  softly!     It  may  not  be  achieved  so  hastily! 

ASTERIUS. 

What !  If  any  one  of  my  family  refuses  to  believe  what 
I  order  him  to  believe  I'll  have  him  flogged  till  he  does  so 
believe!  Oh,  come  what  may  of  it,  you'll  find  there's  no 
better  Christian  in  Italy  than  I !  Come,  now ;  to  the  ban- 
quet! 


66  FESTIVAL  PLAYS 


Pertinax. 


[Advancing.]  Master  ...  I  mean,  Asterius;  as  one 
freedman  and  landed  proprietor  to  another  I  ask  your 
daughter  Asteria  Tertia  in  marriage ! 

ASTEBIUS. 

[Nearly  speechless  with  wrath.]  What !  Do  my  ears 
play  me  tricks  ?  This  .  .  .  this  .  .  .  this  scum  asks  .  .  . 
Tertulla.  .  .  . 

Pertinax. 

My  blood,  Asterius,  is  not  ignoble !  I  was  not  bought 
from  a  dealer's  cage  in  the  market!  I  am  no  tippler  at 
the  hot  liquor  shops,  or  gossiper  in  the  ante-room,  like  cer- 
tain ones !  [Looking  at  Nerva  who  is  stifling  his  mirth 
at  the  anger  of  Asterius.]  I  have  some  scholarship,  and, 
as  you  should  know,  no  little  agricultural  skill !  And  if 
the  maid  should  not  look  on  me  with  disfavour  .  .  . 

Asterius. 

Away  with  you  to  extreme  and  uttermost  perdition! 
May  you  be  buffeted  with  fists  .  .  . 

Nerva. 
[Enjoying  this,  echoes.]     Buffeted  with  fists! 

Asterius. 
.  .  .  jerked  with  rods  .  .  . 


TERTULLA'S  GARDEN  67 

Nerva. 
That's  it ;  jerked  with  rods ! 

ASTERIUS. 

.  .  .  pricked  with  goads!  .  .  . 

Nerva. 
Pricked  with  goads  .  .  .  sharp,  sharp  goads ! 

ASTERIUS. 

.  .  .  pinched  with  red-hot  tongs  .  .  . 

Nerva. 
.  .  ,  with  sizzling,  red-hot  tongs  .  .  . 

Asterius. 

.  .  .  roasted  over  scorching  flames  and  thrown  to  wild 
beasts  to  be  devoured!     [He  goes  by  the  curtained  way.] 

Nerva. 

.  .  .  hungry   wild   beasts  .  .  .  munch  .  .  .  crunch!    to 
be  devoured!     M-m-m!     [He  follows  Asterius.] 

Pertinax. 

Oh,   infamous !     And   all   because  of  your   abominable 
miracles!     [To  Valentinus.     He  goes  out  by  the  door.] 


68  FESTIVAL  PLAYS 

[Valentinus  sits  quietly  meditating  in  the  waning 
light,  and  to  him  comes  Quartilla  with  her  caged 
bird.] 

QUAETILLA. 

Everybody  is  unhappy  and  my  dove  has  ceased  to  coo ! 

[She  sets  the  cage  among  the  flowers,  then,  seating 

herself  beside  Valentinus,  slips  her  hand  into  his. 

Thus  are  they  when  Asterius  enters  quietly,  and 

also  seats  himself.     After  a  slight  pause  he  speaks.] 

Asterius. 

Will  you  baptise  me  a  Christian  to-night  or  to-morrow, 
Valentinus  ? 

Valentinus. 

Neither  then  nor  now,  Asterius,  nor  ever,  while  your 
heart  remains  hard  and  your  spirit  proud ! 

Asterius. 

But,  consider,  now.  .  .  .  Had  Tulla  remained  blind  I 
could  have  borne  with  the  fellow's  impudence ;  might  even 
have  reconciled  myself  to  the  match !  But  Tulla  with  her 
eyesight  is  another  matter !  My  eldest  daughter  is  married 
to  a  man  with  a  porch  to  his  house  as  large  as  one  belong- 
ing to  a  public  building!  My  second  son-in-law  has  an 
estate  at  the  seventh  milestone  on  the  Appian  Way!  I 
myself  do  not  need  to  go  to  the  public  baths ;  I  have  added 
a  fine  equipment  to  the  house  with  the  most  elaborate  de- 
vices for  warm  and  cold  water  and  hot  air  I 
[There  is  a  slight  pause.] 


TERTULLA'S  GARDEN  69 

Valentinus. 
Hark! 

QUAETILLA. 

'WTiat  do  you  hear? 

Valentinus. 

A  ring-dove,  calling  for  its  mate !  .  .  .  Quick,  Tilla ! 
Set  your  poor  prisoner  free!  {Putting  the  cage  into  her 
hand  and  opening  the  door  that  leads  into  the  lane.] 

QUARTILLA. 

[Almost  crying.]  WTiat,  my  dove  that  I  paid  money 
for?  ...  .  Let  it  go? 

Valentinus. 

Why,  now,  child,  it  is  for  this  very  thing  you  paid  your 
money  ...  to  give  it  back  its  stolen  happiness !  .  .  .  See, 
already  it  lifts  its  drooping  head  .  .  .  ready  to  answer  the 
call  of  life,  and  spring,  and  love ! 

QUARTILLA. 

[Opening  the  door  of  the  cage  as  she  goes  out.]  Fare- 
well, my  dove !  .  .  .  Drop  a  feather  from  the  wing  of  your 
happiness,  and  send  a  note  from  your  song  of  joy  back  to 
Quartilla !  .  .  .  Kindly  fare  you  well ! 

ASTERIUS. 

[Rising,  addresses  Valextixus.]  You  think  me  in  the 
wrong,  but  Tulla  herself  is  averse  to  the  idea !     [Valen- 


70  FESTIVAL  PLAYS 

TiNUs  makes  no  reply.]     I  will  send  her  here  that  you 
yourself  may  question  her! 

Tertdlla. 

[Entering.]  How  wonderful  to  learn  the  world  all  over 
again  !     Valentinus  !     I  would  speak  with  Valentinus ! 

QUAETILLA. 

[Enters  with  her  empty  cage.]  It  has  flown  away! 
[She  sighs.]  I'm  glad  someone  is  happy  at  last!  Poor 
Pertinax  is  pacing  up  and  down  the  lane  with  a  face  three 
cubits  long ! 

ASTERIUS. 

[With  contempt.]  Pertinax,  forsooth!  Come  with  me, 
Quartilla!     [Quartilla  goes  with  him.] 

Tertdlla. 

[Also  with  contempt.]  Pertinax,  indeed!  My  father 
informed  me  of  his  presumptuous  proposal!  Shall  one 
who  has  been  honoured  by  a  god  put  on  the  saffron-coloured 
wedding  veil  and  slippers  for  a  gardener?  [Pertinax 
appears  at  the  door.] 

Valentinus. 

But  such  a  gardener !     [Indicating  the  flowers.] 

Tertulla. 

[In  surprise.]  Oh!  How  came  these  here?  Flowers 
that  by  the  grace  of  Faunus,  blossom  for  Tertulla  while 
the  gardens  of  others  are  still  a  barren  waste ! 


TERTULLA'S  GARDEN  71 

Valentinus. 

Brought  by  the  human  deputy  of  the  divinity  .  .  .  good 
Pertinax ! 

Tertulla. 

[Thoughtfully.]  Pertinax!  [She  fondles  the  flowers.] 
]\Iy  friends !  Do  you  know  that  at  last  I  see  you  with  the 
eyes  of  my  body  as  of  my  spirit?  [Kisses  the  flowers.] 
[Pertinax  sighs.  Tertulla  hearing,  starts  up."] 
Who  sighed  then?  Surely  not  Faunus!  Surely  Faunus 
is  no  longer  angry  with  his  handmaiden  ?  Valentinus,  you 
always  counsel  wisely !  How  can  I  propitiate  the  god,  as- 
suring him  of  my  continued  loyal  service  ? 

Valentinus. 

True  service  implies  many  things,  Tertulla,  among 
which  not  the  least  is  gratitude!  Under  the  favour  of 
Heaven  human  hands  were  needed  to  protect  the  tender 
roots  from  the  cruelties  of  winter,  to  water  them  in  days 
of  drought,  and  foster  their  growth!  The  miracle  of  the 
god  could  be  wrought  only  by  the  devotion  of  a  man ! 

Tertulla. 

[After  a  slight  pause.]  If  Pertinax  is  within  hearing 
let  him  advance  to  receive  my  thanks ! 

[At  a  sign  from  Valentinus,  Pertinax  oleys,  on 

which  Tertulla  addresses  him  ivith  much  dignity.] 

Although   not   condoning  the   presumption   of   your   suit. 

Pertinax,   yet  .  .  .   [She   breaTcs   off  with   a   slight   cry.] 


72  FESTIVAL  PLAYS 

Why  .  .  .  yours  was  the  last  face  I  saw  before  my  vision 
went  to  sleep,  when  you,  a  boy,  drew  me  from  the  reach  of 
the  all-devouring  flames  !  [She  turns  aside  with  emotion.] 
An  act  but  for  which  I  should  still  be  .  .  .  How  unmind- 
ful have  I  been  all  these  years !  But  now  .  .  .  you  shall 
find  me  not  ungrateful ! 

Pektinax. 

I  ask  nothing,  Asteria  Tertia,  but  pardon  for  the  offence 
of  having  lifted  my  own  eyes  toward  you !  .  .  .  With  the 
freedom  your  Jove-like  father  has  this  day  bestowed  on  me 
I  withdraw  from  his  service,  never  to  cross  the  threshold 
of  your  life  again !  .  .  .  Kindly  fare-you-well !  [He  turns 
to  go.] 

Tertulla. 

[With  a  little  cry.]  Oh!  But  my  garden!  .  .  ,  Valen- 
tinus,  what,  think  you,  would  Faunus  have  me  do  with  my 
affairs  in  such  case?     [In  a  whisper  to  Valentinus.] 

Valentinus. 

What  does  your  own  heart  counsel  you,  Tertulla?  [He 
places  in  her  hand  a  blossoming  spray.]  Close  your  eyes 
again  and  dwell  for  a  space  in  the  chambers  of  your  spirit ! 
[Tertulla  does  as  he  bids.]     What  see  you  now? 

Tertulla. 

Of  course  the  image  of  the  god  Faunus  is  lodged  in  the 
sacred  penetralia,  never  to  be  displaced  by  other  object 
of  veneration.  [Pertinax  sighs  heavily.  She  continues 
hesitatingly.]     And  yet  .  .  . 


TERTULLA'S  GARDEN  73 

Valentinus. 
All?     And  how  appears  the  god;  in  what  image,  Tulla? 

Tertulla. 

Strange !  A  circumstance  beyond  my  power  to  explain, 
but  .  .  .  [She  speaks  confidentially  so  that  Pertinax 
shall  not  overhear.]  Think  me  not  sacrilegious,  Valen- 
tinus,  when  I  say  he  resembles  Pertinax ! 

Peetinax. 

[Having  crept  close  to  listen.]  0  felicitous  omen! 
Accept  it,  Asteria  Tertia,  and  that  you  shall  not  repent 
yourself  of  it  will  I  dedicate  my  life! 

Tertulla. 
[Opening  eyes.]     Would  you?     [To  Valentixus.] 

Valextinus. 
[Nodding  assent.]     I  would  indeed,  were  I  Tertulla! 

Tertulla. 

Then,  Pertinax,  since  what  even  now  seemed  presump- 
tion on  your  part  is  presented  to  me  as  an  act  commended 
by  the  immortal  gods  and  goddesses  .  .  . ! 
[Holds  out  a  hand  to  him.] 


74  FESTIVAL  PLAYS 

Pertinax. 

0  joyful  day !  Words  fail  me !  Even  Anacreon  dis- 
owns me!  I  can  only  express  myself  in  terms  of  horti- 
culture! Already  the  myrtle  beloved  of  Venus  puts  forth 
shoots,  and  blossoming  with  the  rose,  twines  itself  in  a 
nuptial  wreath  about  Tertulla's  brow! 

Terthlla. 

How  beautiful !  Speak  more  to  me  in  such  fashion ! 
[Draws  him  aside.] 

ASTERIUS. 

[In  the  inner  room.]  Bring  in  the  banquet.  Set  the 
tables.  Place  the  couches !  Let  nothing  be  wanting  to 
the  feast!  [He  enters,  followed  hy  Nerva  and  slaves 
hearing  lamps,  dishes,  and  all  the  material  for  a  royal 
feast.]  This  spot,  which  witnessed  the  prodigy  of  my 
child's  restoration  to  sight,  shall  witness  equally  our  grati- 
tude! .  .  .  Well,  Valentinus!  Has  Tulla  convinced  you 
of  her  loathing  for  that  insect  Pertinax?  If  so  we  will 
amuse  ourselves  while  feasting  in  devising  means  to  tor- 
ture him,  after  which  we  will  all  be  baptised!  I  under- 
stand your  god  insists  on  mercy  to  one's  enemies,  where- 
fore I  delay  allegiance  to  him  till  Pertinax  shall  have  been 
torn  limb  from  limb! 

Nerva. 

[Smacking  his  lips.]  Limb  from  limb !  M-m !  [Sud- 
denly catches  sight  of  the  two  lovers,  and  exclaims,  nearly 
dropping  the  dish  he  holds.]     Now,  by  Hercules  .  .  .! 


TERTULLA'S  GARDEN  75 

ASTEKIUS. 
[Making  for  Nerva  with  sticlc.]     Thumb-fingered  one! 

QUARTILLA. 

0  Bee  my  sister  who  clasps  hands  with  Pertinax! 

ASTERIUS. 

[Also  seeing  the  two.]  What!  Does  my  vision  play 
me  tricks?     Wprker  of  prodigies,  is  this  your  deed? 

QUARTILLA. 

[Dancing  about.]     A  miracle!     A  miracle! 

Valentinus. 

Only  the  miracle  of  youth  ! 

Tertulla. 
[Imploring.]     Father! 

Pertinax. 
[Also  imploring.]     Father-in-law! 

ASTERIUS. 

[Almost  speechless.]  Father  and  father-in-law!  Now, 
by —  [Nerva  splutters  with  laughter,  on  which  he  raises 
his  stick  to  him,  then  drops  it.'\     0  ye  gods !     In  vain  do 


76  FESTIVAL  PLAYS 

I  remind  myself  that  I  am  a  Eoman  father!  Vainly  do 
I  call  to  mind  the  pprtico  of  one  son-in-law,  the  estate 
at  the  seventh  milestone  of  the  other!  Even  the  bath 
fails  me,  the  bath  equipped  with  hot  and  cold  water  and 
hot  air !  I  am  not  enraged  as  I  should  be !  Even  the 
brazen-tongued  Nerva  causes  me  mirth  rather  than  fury! 

QUARTILLA. 

[Dancing  about.]     A  miracle !     A  miracle ! 

Valentinus. 

Only  the  miracle  of  kindness  working  in  your  own  good 
heart,  Asterius ! 

ASTERIUS. 

Then  without  more  words  let  us  to  the  banquet  lest  the 
meats  grow  cold  while  miracles  are  multiplied ! 
[All  take  places  at  table.] 

Tertulla. 

[Whispers  to  Valentinus.]  Think  you  will  Pertinax 
forgive  me  for  my  adoration  for  the  god  Faunus? 

Valentinus. 
Surely,  by  the  aid  of  the  miracle  of  love ! 

Pertinax. 

[Also  goes  to  Valentinus,  speaTcing  to  him  apart.] 
Think  you  that  my  wife  will  expect  impossible  deeds  of 
me,  mistaking  me  for  a  god? 


TERTULLA'S  GARDEN  77 


Valentinus. 


Fear  not!     Tliat  clanger  will  be  prevented  by  the  mira- 
cle of  marriage ! 

[All  take  places  at  the  tables,  reclining  on  the  couches 
that  servants  have  brought.  Musicians  begin  a  pre- 
lude on  flute,  lyre,  and  harp.  Suddenly  Quartilla 
starts  up,  lifting  a  hand  for  silence.] 

Quartilla. 

Oh,  listen!     [There  is  a  general  hush.]     My  dove  .  .  . 
my  dove  has  found  its  mate! 


THE  SEVEN  SLEEPERS  OF  EPHESOS 

Easter 


THE  SEVEN  SLEEPERS  OF  EPHESOS 

Characters 

The  Seven  Sleepers.  Lads,  of  the  time  of  Decius  who 
reigned  over  the  Roman  Empire  from  A.  D.  2Jf9  to 
251,  named  Constantine,  Dion,  Maximus,  Joannes, 
Martinds,  Malchus,  and  Serapion. 

A  Young  Slave  named  Constantine  and  six  Schoolboys, 
of  the  time  of  Theodosius  II,  who  reigned  from  A.  D. 
J^OS  to  ^i50,  named  Dion,  Maximus,  Ioannes,  Mar- 
TiNus,  Malchus  and  Serapion. 

Other  persons  of  the  same  day,  including 

The  Emperor  and  his  suite. 

The  Schoolmaster,  called  hy  the  hoys  DidasMlos, 

A  Priest,  a  Contractor,  an  Overseer,  a  Centurion  and 
Soldiers,  the  Magistrate,  the  Townclerk,  other 
Officials,  Slaves  working  in  the  quarry.  An  Old 
Slave  Woman,  grandmother  of  Constantine, 

Holiday-Makers  with  their  attendant  Slaves,  and 

A  Friend  who  belongs  to  all  ages  and  countries. 


80 


THE  SEVEN  SLEEPEIJS  OF  EPHESOS 

FOEEWOED 

Let  us  take  a  flight  backward  over  fifteen  centuries  to 
a  date  somewhere  about  A.  D.  410.  The  Roman  Empire 
is  the  centre  of  the  civilised  world,  with  Constantinople 
for  its  capital  and  Theodosius  II  upon  the  throne.  Let 
us  imagine  ourselves  in  Asia  Minor,  visiting  a  city  of 
Lydia  which  we  are  accustomed  to  call  in  Eoman  fashion 
Ephesus,  but  which  we  will  to-day  spell  Ephesos  to  remind 
us  of  a  fact  of  which  it  was  too  proud  ever  to  forget  .  .  . 
its  Greek  origin.  Indeed  Ephesos  at  all  times  seems  to 
have  held  its  head  high.  It  prided  itself  for  one  thing 
on  its  commercial  importance,  its  situation  rendering  it 
an  admirable  starting-place  for  Eoman  legions  on  their 
eastward  march  of  conquest  no  less  than  an  admirable  port 
from  which  the  spoils  of  the  orient,  brought  across  the 
desert  routes  by  caravan,  could  be  shipped  to  western 
markets.  From  this  it  gained  the  name  of  Key,  or  Gate- 
way, to  the  eastern  Empire.  In  the  earlier  days  of  its 
history  Ephesos  had  also  proudly  styled  itself  the  Temple- 
Keeper  City  on  account  of  its  devotion  to  the  great  nature- 
goddess  Artemis  in  whose  honour  a  magnificent  sanctuary 
had  been  erected  there  some  thousand  years  before  this  day 
we  are  to  relive  in  the  reign  of  Theodosius  II.  Little  gold 
and  silver  shrines  of  Artemis  were  fabricated  and  sold  in 
Ephesos  while  Christianity  was  still  under  a  ban,  and, 

81 


82  FESTIVAL  PLAYS 

as  you  will  recall,  it  was  the  fear  of  the  guild  of  smith- 
craftsmen  that  the  new  religion  would  deprive  them  of  this 
industry  that  caused  an  uprising  against  the  Apostle  Paul 
during  his  missionary  labours  there.  Then  when  Con- 
stantino the  Great  declared  in  favour  of  Christianity, 
causing  it  to  he  the  officially  established  religion  of  Im- 
perial Eome,  we  find  Ephesos  priding  itself  on  the  zeal 
with  which  it  renounces  its  ancient  deities,  and  either 
razing  the  temples  of  these  or  converting  them  into 
churches  with  forms  of  worship  adapted  to  the  new  creed. 
It  is  a  holiday  in  spring,  and  holidays  here  seem  much 
the  same  as  elsewhere.  Schoolboys  freed  from  the  rule 
of  didaskalos  go  to  the  shores  of  the  Eiver  Kaystros  to  skip 
oyster  shells,  or  they  play  hide-and-seek  in  the  fields  of 
wheat  and  millet  that  grow  high  as  a  man's  head.  Per- 
haps when  the  back  of  the  Centurion  with  his  vine-branch 
rod  is  turned  they  will  form  a  group  in  the  pleasant  shade 
of  some  portico  to  match  coins.  "Heads  or  ships?"  we 
shall  hear  them  say,  if  by  chance  a  Eoman  piece  has  found 
its  way  among  the  locally  minted  currency.  Picnic  par- 
ties attended  by  slaves  bearing  huge  baskets  of  provisions 
will  be  seeking  the  quarried  sides  of  Prion  and  Koressos, 
the  beautiful  mountains  that  overlook  Ephesos.  Stories 
will  be  told  by  the  old  to  the  young:  legends  of  the  days 
when  the  Temple  of  Artemis  .  .  .  now  but  a  picturesque 
ruin  .  .  .  was  sanctuary  during  a  Persian  invasion;  later 
fables  of  the  persecutions  instituted  by  the  Emperor  Decius 
against  the  professors  of  the  new  religion  who  were  fain 
to  meet  by  stealth  in  upper  chambers  to  worship,  or  be 
scourged,  thrown,  perchance,  to  beasts  in  the  arena.  Per- 
haps some  antiquarian  will  have  discovered  a  papyrus  on 


THE  SEVEN  SLEEPERS  OF  EPHESOS         83 

which  he  has  deciphered  a  hjmn  in  praise  oi'  Artemis, 
coupled  with  an  ode  to  the  City,  to  be  sung  by  the  Ephe- 
boi,  the  youths  of  the  place,  and  the  girls  destined  to  be 
Temple  priestesses,  at  the  great  festival  of  springtide  when 
nature's  self  celebrates  the  glory  of  resurrection  after  its 
winter  sleep,  and  decks  the  world  with  flowers.  In  those 
days  the  month  of  festival  was  called  Artemisiou,  but 
now  it  is  known  as  Easter !  Listen  to  the  chants  from  the 
churches  dedicated  to  St.  Paul,  St.  John!  But  even  as 
you  hear  the  "Glory  to  the  Father"  the  winds  that  ac- 
knowledge no  religion,  old  or  new,  and  the  echoes  that  wit- 
ness them  all,  bring  back  to  life  the  strains  of  the  ancient 
processional,  sung  to  flute,  harp  and  lyre,  in  praise  of 
the  banished  goddess  Artemis  by  boys  and  girls  over  whose 
graves  the  flowers  of  nigh  two  centuries  have  grown ! 

HYMN  TO  ARTEMIS 

0  Artemis, 
Great  goddess-mother,  born 
\Vlien  from  primeval  night's  abyss 

Primeval  rose  the  morn ! 

To  well-strung  lyre 
Thy  choric  praise  we  sing, 
Libations  pour,  tend  sacred  fire. 

Bear  garland-offering. 

As  Prion's  peak 
Strains  toward  sky-swung  star 
So  conquerors  thy  favour  seek, 

0  sroddess  tutelar ! 


84  FESTIVAL  PLAYS 

Unbought,  unsold. 
Abides  thine  altar-stone, 
Nor  subjugate  by  Croesus'  gold, 

Nor  pride  of  Macedon ! 

Thy  columned  fane 
From  quarries  hewn  of  time, 
Oft  razed,  but  rears  itself  again 

In  grandeur  more  sublime  ! 

In  war  or  peace 
Then  grant,  as  aye  before, 
x\rms'  victory  and  earth's  increase, 

In  peace,  goddess,  or  war ! 


HYMN  IN  PRAISE  OF  THE  CITY  EPHEiSOS 

0  City  Temple-Keeper,  praise  be  thine 
For  fruitful  olive,  corn,  and  clustered  vine. 

Sweet-watered  plain, 
And  prospered  orchard,  flocks  on  sunny  sides 
Of  hills  where  silver-tracked  Kaj^stros  glides 

To  trackless  main ! 

0  wide  thy  roads  that  heiglit  and  desert  span 
For  mustered  troop  and  laden  caravan. 

An  Empire's  key 
From  morning  star  to  star  at  eve  that  dips 
Into  yon  harbour  whence  our  gallied  ships 

Go  down  to  sea ! 


THE  SEVEN  SLEEPERS  OF  EPHESOS         85 

0  fair  thine  iris-mead  and  cypress  grove 
Where  Egypt's  queen  and  Koman  soldier  wove 

Love's  dream  of  joy ! 
Mighty  thy  pride  of  old  Ionic  race, 
Altar  and  hearth  no  power  can  abase 

Nor  time  destroy ! 

The  winds  fold  their  wings  among  the  hills  and  the 
echoes  slip  back  into  the  valleys  with  their  memories  of 
boys  and  girls  with  their  flowering  garlands,  incense  bear- 
ers, priests  and  priestesses  of  long  ago  who  used  to  march 
through  the  city  and  climb  the  hill  to  the  Temple  in  the 
month  of  Artemision;  and  the  cross  over  the  gateway 
that  we  see  in  the  distance,  and  the  peal  of  the  Gloria 
from  the  churches  remind  us  that  this  is  a  modern  and 
Christian  Ephesos  through  which  we  are  wandering  at 
Eastertide  in  the  year  410.  Erom  the  market-place  we 
have  passed  to  the  stadion  where  the  young  athletes  of 
the  place  are  practising  for  the  games  that  will  be  held 
later  on,  and  now  our  steps  have  brought  us  beyond  city 
bounds  in  the  direction  of  Koressos.  Here  we  find  that, 
although  it  is  a  holiday,  gangs  of  slaves  directed  by  an 
overseer  are  busily  quarrying  the  grey  marble  for  which 
this  mountain  is  famed.  Mingling  with  the  bystanders 
we  pause  to  watch  them  as  they  tear  down  a  pile  of  loose, 
large  stones  that  seem  at  some  time  to  have  been  stacked 
up  against  what  looks  like  a  solid  wall  of  masonry.  As 
the  sun  is  high  and  we  are  wearied  with  our  climb  we 
join  a  group  sitting  in  the  shadow  of  a  plane  tree,  enjoy- 
ing the  view,  listening  to  the  distant  chimes  and  the  an- 


86  FESTIVAL  PLAYS 

thems  of  praise  from  the  churches.     Meanwhile  our  at- 
tention is  arrested  by  the  talk  that  goes  on  about  us. 

The  Overseer. 

[As  a  huge  block  rolls  down.] 
Good !     Still  a  few  such  blocks,  and  lo !  fulfilled 
My  contract! 

A  Priest. 

[Passing,  pauses.] 

Working!     Through  what  greed  of  gain 
Profane  you  thus  the  holy  festival 
Of  Eastertide? 

The  Overseer. 

A  holy  work,  in  truth. 

Good  presbyter  I     Aye ;  albeit  delayed 

Through  curious  reluctance  of  these  slaves  .  .  . 

Dogs,  Would  you  slacken  when  my  back  is  turned! 
[He  menaces  the  Slaves  who  seem  to  work  most  unwill- 
ingly; then  continues]  ...  to  quarry  the  grey  ribs  of 
Koressos 

For  marble  for  the  final  resting-place 

Of  an  Apostle! 

The  Priest. 

[Enlightened.] 

What!     To  line  the  tomb 
Of  blessed  Paulos  destined,  then,  these  stones? 


THE  SEVEN  SLEEPERS  OF  EPHESOS         87 

The  Overseer. 
The  contract  so  attests! 

A  Dandy. 

[Passing  hy  with  an  Official  pauses.] 

Increased  the  land 
In  value,  neighbouring  the  tomb,  since  all 
Of  ardent  faith  interred  will  seek  to  lie 
Near  bones  canonical  and  sanctified ! 
Let  us  go  bargain  for  it  secretly! 

The  Official. 

Forget  you,  marts  are  closed  and  business  waits 
On  Eastertide  ? 

The  Dandy. 

"T  is  true,  worse  luck  to  it! 

A  Young  Slave. 

This  is  the  last  stone  that  I  roll  away!     [The  other 
Slaves  mutter  assent.] 

The  Overseer. 

[Angrily.] 
Silence  !     Or  taste  the  lash  ! 


88  FESTIVAL  PLAYS 


The  Priest. 


[Apostrophising  the  mountain.] 

0  Koressos, 
How  luauy  pagan  fanes  in  bygone  days 
Your  sides  have  yielded!     ISTow  your  very  heart 
The  mortal  part  of  immortality 
Shall  shrine!     Hallow'd  such  toil  on  hallow'd  day, 
How  must  ye  love  it!     [To  the  Slaves.] 

The  Slaves. 

[In  contemptuous  derision.] 
We! 

The  Y^oung  Slave. 

[Offering  his  tools  to  the  Priest.] 

An  like  it  you 
So  greatly,  come,   then;   take  my  place  at  it  !      [Tliis 
daring  act  causes  a  sensation.] 

The  Priest. 

[Unable  to  credit  his  ears.] 
What,  1  ?     A  father  of  the  church ! 

The  Young  Slave. 

Why  not, 
If  hallowed  task  you  deem  it  fits  it  not 
Your  calling? 


THE  SEVEN  SLEEPERS  OF  EPHESOS         89 

The  Priest. 

[Unable  to  credit  his  senses.] 

Eyes,  deceive  ye  me?     0  cars, 
Be  3^e  discredited !     Slave  this  ?    Ye  gods !     [No  sooner 
has  he  made  this  slip  of  the  tongue  than  he  becomes  un- 
comfortably conscious  of  it  from  the  shocked  amusement 
of  the  bystanders.] 

The  Youxg  Slave. 

[With  sardonic  mirth.] 
Upon  the  gods  he  calls !     This  man  of  God 
On  ancient  gods,  on  banished  gods  and  banned 
Is  fain  to  call  for  witness!     Hear  him,  gods!     [This 
daring  speech  causes  a  great  sensation.] 

The  Priest. 

0  blasphemous!     For  trifling  tongue-slip  thus 
To  be  construed  as  utterance  profane ! 
Heaven,  avenge  Thy  servant!     Lightning-shaft 
And   bolted   thunder   strike   this    slave!     [With   arms 
upraised.] 

The  Young  Slave. 

[With  a  sneer.] 

Too  clear 
The  face  of  morning!     Did  fulfilment  wait 
Such  miracle  though,  easier  its  death 
Than  the  life-haunting  frenzy  that  predooms 
\Yho  delve  into  this  mountain's  mystery ! 


90  FESTIVAL  PLAYS 

An  Old  Slave. 
Truth  speaks  he!     [The  other  Slaves  murmur  assent] 

The  Overseer. 

[Angrily.] 

Truth  or  falsehood,  his  next  word 
Will  earn  a  whipping!  .  .  .  Are  the  oxen  yoked?     [He 
looJcs  toivard  a  point  beyond  our  vision.] 

Then  load  with  these  the  draj^s!  [He  indicates  the 
stones  already  quarried,  accordingly  the  Slaves  slip  a 
noosed  rope  ah  out  the  largest  of  these  and  drag  it  away.] 

The  Priest. 

[In  a  temper.] 

Lash-threat  I  deem 

Too  light  a  penance  for  his  saucy  tongue ! 
Centurion !     [He  calls  and  hecTcons  to  someone.]     What, 
ho !     Centurion ! 

This  city's  wretchedly  policed! 

The  Centurion. 

[Majestically  stall's  on.] 

Who  calls, 

And  wherefore? 

The  Priest. 
Yon's  a  slave  whose  tongue  offends, 


THE  SEVEN  SLEEPERS  OF  EPHESOS         91 

Centurion. 

In  course  of  nature !     Slaves  should  all  be  born 
Untongued,  were  I  consulted!  .  .  .  Slaves,  and  boys 
Of  schooling  years !     [He  shakes  his  rod  threateningly 
at  a  group  of  Schoolboys  who  are  imitating  his  stride, 
then  continues,  addressing  the  Overseer.]     The  wretch 
your  chattel  is. 

Why  not  yourself  chastise  him  ? 

The  Overseer. 

[Shaking  his  head.] 

Sinewed  brawn 
I  can't  afford  to  quarrel  with.     His  lead 
The  others  follow.     Mutiny  't  would  cause. 

The  Priest. 

[Appealing,  angrily.] 
Unscathed  such  blasphemy?     Centurion  .  .  . 

The  Overseer. 

[Appealing,  anxiously.] 
Undone  the  work !     Centurion  .  .  . 

The  Centurion. 

The  noon 
Is  sunful,  steep  the  climbing  hill,  and  I 
No  longer  in  my  sapling  years.     Where  shade 
Invites  I'll  weigh  the  matter  duly,  which 


92  FESTIVAL  PLAYS 

Hath  greater  claim  on  Rome's  authority : 

A  partly  holy  man,  wholly  alive,  [Indicating  the 
Priest] 

Or  an  Apostle,  wholly  holy,  dead!  [He  sits  under  the 
tree  and  falls  into  a  doze.] 

lOANNES  [a  Schoolboy]. 

Let  's  to  the  river  and  skip  oyster- shells. 
Or  sail  our  galleys ! 

Maximus. 

In  the  stadion 
I'm  all  for  diskoa-throwing,  sprinting.     Come, 
A  trial  race!     [To  Dion.] 

Dion. 

[Agreeing.] 

I'm  with  you ! 
[The  two  athletes,  Dion  and  Maximus  strip  off  their 
outer  garments,  throw  these  down,  under  the  tree.] 

Serapion. 

[A  small  hoy,  with  a  slight  limp.] 
0  Dion,  brother !     Let  me  come  with  you ! 

Dion. 

Too  small  is  Serapion,  and  too  lame !  .  .  . 
Eeady,  Maximus? 


THE  SEVEN  SLEEPERS  OF  EPHESOS         93 

Maximus. 

Eeady!  [They  stand  ready  to 
start.  The  Others  give  the  signal,  "One,  Two,  Three, 
Off!"  and  they  run  off.] 

Serapion. 

Always  too  little,  and  too  lame !     Ah,  well : 
My  ^sop's  fables  must  I  learn  by  heart!     [He  wallcs 
apart,  trying   to  recall  his  lesson.]     "A  nightingale  did 
sing  .  .  .  did   sing  .  .  .  sing  .  .  .  sing  .  .  ,  When   hun- 
gry hawk  .  .  .  when  hungry  hawk  .  .  ." 

Malchus. 

Here,  let's  play  knucklebones!     [The   Others  assent, 
crying,  " KnucMehones !"]     Or,  better :  flipcoin ! 

lOANNES. 
But  that's  forbidden ! 

Malchus. 

What  of  that?  No  one 
Is  looking!  Sleeps  authority,  [Pointing  to  the  Cen- 
turion who  is  snoring  slightly.  They  laugh,  ticJcle  his  ear 
with  a  spear  of  grass.  He  brushes  this  aside,  saying, 
"Shoo,  fly!"  The  Boys,  feeling  safe,  sit  on  the  ground, 
and  prepare  to  play  flipcoin.] 


94  FESTIVAL  PLAYS 

Maximds. 

See,  here's  a  Eoman  piece.     Who  matches  me? 
loannes,    you?     [Ioannes    shakes    his    head.]     What 
now?     Afraid  to  lose? 

Ioannes. 

[With  some  heat.] 
You  know  it  is  not  so,  Malchus.     My  word 
I  passed  I  would  not! 

Malchus. 

You're  too  good 
To  live !     Martinus,  then  ? 

Martinus. 

[ShaTces  head,  refiising.] 

No  money ! 

Malchus. 

Eh? 
What's   that  ?     A    tetradrachm !     [Pointing    to   a    coin 
Martinus  has  teen  clutching,  and  now  tosses  up  and 
catches  nimbly.] 

Martinus. 

[Explains.] 

'T  is  for  a  loaf 
Of  bread.     My  mother  bade  me  careful  be 
To  count  the  change !  .  .  .  Ah,  well ;  no  harm  to  stake 
A  little  sum  against  a  large  one ! 


THE  SEVEN  SLEEPERS  OF  EPHESOS         95 

Malchds. 

Good  I 
Then  .  .  .  Heads  or  ships ! 

Maetinus. 
Ships  I 

Malchus. 

Heads  it  is !    You  lose ! 

Maetinus. 

[Suddenly  realising  what  he  has  done.] 
I've  lost !     Oh,  oh  ! 

Malchus. 

[With  some  heat.] 

Well,  stood  you  not  to  lose  or  win? 

Maetinus. 

True !     Oh,  fair  play  was  it !     'T  was  fairly  won ! 
Not  fairly  lost,  though.     Since  not  mine  was  it 
To  play  with!     [To  himself,  bitterly.] 

lOANNES. 

Look!     Here  come  the  racers!     Mark 
How  Dion  leads!     [All  run  to  watch  the  two  runners 
as  they  approach,  crying,  "Well  run!    Good  Dion!    Good 
old  Maximus!"  etc.] 


96  FESTIVAL  PLAYS 

Maximus. 
Again !     Again  't  is  Dion's  victory ! 

Dion. 

To-morrow  better  luck  for  Maximus!  [They  dress 
themselves  assisted  by  the  Others.  Voices  are  heard  ap- 
proaching.] 

lOANNES. 

Here  comes  Didaskalos !     A  stranger-friend 
He  shows  the  sights !     Now  hearken  to  him  prate 
As  owned  he  city,  mountain,  view,  and  all !     [Enter  the 
Schoolmaster  with  The  Friend.     The  Boys  hide.] 

The  Schoolmaster. 

Here  panaromic  spreads  itself  a  view 
Of  Ephesos,  our  city  fair  of  fame  .  .  . 

The  Boys. 

[Put  their  heads  forth  reciting.] 
By  Greek-Ionians  founded.     Subjugate 
By  Persian  satrap,  Great  Alexandres 
Of  Macedon,  in  turn ;  and  finally 
By  Romans! 

The  Schoolmaster. 

Eh?     Who  speaks? 


THE  SEVEN  SLEEPERS  OF  EPHESOS         97 

The  Boys. 

[Showing  themselves.] 

We  echo  you, 
Didaskalos !     [They  laugh,  and  hide  again  as  he  threat- 
ens the77i.] 

The  Schoolmaster. 

[Angrily.] 

The  rascals! 

The  Friend. 

[Smiling.] 

Well  they  know 
Their  history ! 

The  Schoolmaster. 

[Propitiated,  continues  to  point  out  the  sights.] 
Mount  Prion,  yonder,  twin 
To  Koressos  here,  limestone  famed.     Mark  well 
The  valley-sweep  between!  .  .  .  The  city-gates 
Within  you  see  the  agora,  buildings 
Municipal;  and  at  Kaystros'  mouth 
Our  sally-port!  .  .  .  Odeion!     Library! 
Theatre  which  seats  about  three  thousand ! 
And  churches  of  Saints  Peter,  Paul  and  John ! 

The  Friend. 

And  yon,  those  ruins  of  a  grandeur  passed, 

Still  splendid,  awe-inspiring  .  .  .  aye,  sublime  .  .  .   ? 


98  FESTIVAL  PLAYS 

The  Schoolmaster. 

[Shoched.] 
Good  friend  ...  a  pagan  temple,  justly  razed  .  .  . 

The  Priest. 

[Who  has  heen  sitting,  making  notes  on  his  tablets, 
starts  up  and  joins  in  the  discussion.] 
Not  razed  yet  low  enough !     Not  stone  on  stone 
Should  still  be  standing,  were  the  city  keen 
On  matters  sacred  as  on  secular!     [The  Friend  looks 
from  one  to  the  other  for  explanation.] 

The  Schoolmaster. 

Yon  ruins  mark  the  one-time  templed  site 
Of  Artemis  .  .  , 

The  Peiest. 

[Taking  the  words  from  him.] 

In  days  of  error,  now 
Thank  Heaven,  passed !  the  city's  tutelar ! 

The  Schoolmastee. 

[Trying  to  continue  his  lecture.] 
No  kin  to  Graeco-Eoman  Artemis, 
But  Asian,  autochthonic,  to  be  classed 
With  nature-worship  idols ! 


THE  SEVEN  SLEEPERS  OF  EPHESOS         99 

The  Boys. 

Ahem !     Hear,  hear ! 
More  information,  pray,  Didaskalos! 

The  Schoolmaster. 

[Threatening  tJiem.] 
Eascals !     Wait  till  I  get  you  in  tlie  classroom ! 

The  Friend. 

How  beautiful !     There  never  was  a  time 
When  heart  of  man  aloof  from  worship  stood ; 
No  age  so  dark  but  best  of  hand  and  brain 
To  temple-rearing  has  been  consecrate! 
Eeceive,  0  ruined  fane,  my  homage !     [He  boivs  toward 
the  Temple.] 

The  Two  Others. 

[Shoched.] 

What! 

Some  heretic  is  this? 

The  Schoolmaster. 

You  called  yourself, 
Methought,  a  student  of  divinity ! 

The  Friend. 

[Bowing  assent.] 
Therefore  see  spark  divine  wherever  burns 
An  altar-flame  in  any  human  breast ! 


100  FESTIVAL  PLAYS 

The  Peiest. 

[Returning  to  his  worJc.] 
Such  laxity  ...  I  doubt  he's  orthodox ! 

Schoolmaster. 

[To  the  Friend.] 

Shall  we  be  going?  .  .  .  Ouch!  My  toe  I  stubbed! 
[He  hicks  a  small  otject,  lying  among  the  rubble,  and 
suddenly  arrested  by  some  peculiarity  in  its  appearance, 
stoops  and  picks  it  up.] 

What's  this?  Upon  my  word,  a  silver  shrine  .  .  .  [He 
dusts  off  the  object.] 

An  Artemis  .  .  .  and  dated,  A.  U.  C.  .  .  .  [Reckons, 
mentally.] 

A  century  and  half  a  century 

Would  take  us  back  to,  let  me  see  .  .  .  whose  reign  ? 

The  Boys. 

[Appearing,  deride  him.] 

Ha,  ha,  Didaskalos!  Oh,  dunce,  forget  you  thus  your 
tables  ? 

I'll  birch  you,  when  I  get  you  in  the  classroom !  Wait 
and  see ! 

The  Schoolmaster. 

Eascals!  .  .  .  The  reign  of  Deeius!     That's  it! 

[He  brushes  off  more  dust  to  examine  the  shrine.] 
Made  by  Demetrios  .  .  . 


THE  SEVEN  SLEEPERS  OF  EPHESOS       101 

The  Priest. 

[Who  has  come  to  looJc.] 
Not  the  Demetrios  of  Paulos'  time! 
Not  by  two  centuries ! 

The  Schoolmaster. 

Generic  name, 
In  Ephesos,  for  silversmiths!     A  find 
Indeed!     [Holds  up  the  shrine.]     My  name  as  anti- 
quarian 

'T  will  render  known! 

The  Priest. 

It  should  be  exorcised 
As  heathen  trash,  and  cast  into  the  fire ! 

The  Friend. 

[Protesting  mildly.] 
Someone  once  held  it  sacred !     Still  a  form 
Of  beauty  is  it ! 

The  Boys. 

[Capering  alout.] 
"Great  is   Artemis!     Great   is   Ephesian   Artemis!     0 
great  is  Artemis  of  the  Ephesians!" 

The  Priest. 
What  sinful  words  are  these? 


102  FESTIVAL  PLAYS 

The  Boys. 

'T  is  history 
We  quote  !     You  ask  Didaskalos  ! 

The  Schoolmaster. 

Rascals ! 
I'll  birch  you  well  to-morrow!     Just  you  see! 

The  Peiest. 

My  birching  will  not  keep !     Till  orthodox 
And  proper  Christians  do  they  show  themselves 
I'll  thrash  them  black  and  blue !     [He  and  the  School- 
master chase  the  Boys.] 

The  Centurion. 
[Waking.] 

How  now !     How  now ! 
What's  this  disturbance !     Who  is  chasing  whom 
And  wherefore?     Or  is  't  some  game  you  play?     [To 
the  Priest  and  the  Schoolmaster,  who  are  highly  dis- 
gusted at  the  question.] 

The  Priest. 
Some  game,  forsooth! 

The  Schoolmaster. 

Instead  of  swelling  out 
Your  chest  to  show  your  medals,  why  not  use 
Your  vine-rod  on  those  boys ! 


THE  SEVEN  SLEEPERS  OF  EPHESOS       103 

The  Centurion. 

Boys!     Show  me  boys 
To  use  my  vine-rod  on  and  I  will  use 
My  vine-rod  on  those  boys!     [They  look  about  for  the 
Boys  who,  needless  to  say,  have  profited  by  this  dispute  to 
vanish.] 

The  Boys. 

[Appear  07i  a  height,  and  shout.] 
Sanctuary !     Sanctuary !     Come,  catch  us,  an  you  dare ! 
[Again  they  disappear  as  the  three  malce  a  feint  of  pursu- 
ing them.] 

The  Centurion. 

Too  tender  of  them  are  you ! 

The  Schoolmaster. 

[Unable  to  believe  his  ears.] 

I? 


The  Priest. 
[Equally  amazed.] 

The  Centurion. 
The  Friend. 


I? 
Aye! 


[With  great  Jcindliness.] 
Young,  growing  creatures,  full  of  living's  joy, 
0  be  not  hard  on  them ! 


104  FESTIVAL  PLAYS 

The  Centurion. 

Said  Solomon, 
The  vine-rod  spare,  the  birch-twig  spare,  and  spoil 
The  schoolboy  and  the  Christian !     Mark  you,  so 
Said  .Solomon!     [He  stalks  off  with  great  majesty.] 
[The  Overseer  and  The  Slaves  now  return.     The 
former,  hy  gesture,  indicates  that  the  work  of  quar- 
rying is  to  be  resumed.     The  Young  Slave  gives 
one  blow  to  the  side  of  the  rock,  then  throws  down 
his  tools.] 

The  Young  Slave. 

So  far  I  work.     No  farther.     Not  one  stroke! 

The  Other  Slaves. 

So  I ! — I  follow  his  example  ! — I 

Also !     The  word  we  stand  by  1     All  1     Aye,  all ! 

The  Overseer. 
[Furious.] 
Accursed  dogs !     But  one  more  stone  we  need ! 
But  one!     [Changing  to  a  placative  tone.]     One! 

The  Young  Slave. 
Quarry  it  yourself,  then!  .  .  .  Here!     [Offers 
the  Overseer  his  pick.] 

The  Overseer. 

An  extra  dole  of  corn,  measure  of  wine 
Compliance  shall  reward! 


THE  SEVEN  SLEEPERS  OF  EPHESOS       105 

The  Young  Slave. 

Bribes  tempt  us  not, 
Nor  threats  affright!     [The  Other  Slaves  assent] 


[Calls.] 


The  Overseer. 
Centurion !     What  ho ! 
The  Centurion. 


[Enters.] 
Who  calls,  and  wherefore?  .  .  .  Wliat;  these  slaves  re- 
fuse 

The  pick  and  axe?.  .  .  Well,  are  you  wool- weavers, 
Or  bakers,  even,  that  a  guild  you  form  ? 
Or  fishmongers  who  would  run  up  the  cost 
Of  living?     ITow,  by  Hercules  ...  I  mean, 
By  Heaven,  freedmen  do  you  think  yourselves 
Daring  to  hold  opinons  of  your  own!     [With  scathing 
sarcasm.] 

The  Contractor. 

[Hastens  on.] 
Wliy  this  delay?    What's  happening?    The  slaves 
Leagued  in  rebellion!  .  .  .  Cut  them  into  strips! 

[Voices  are  heard  of  people  approaching.     A  crowd 
gathers.     There  is  great  general  excitement.] 

Bystanders. 

[Cry.] 
Soldiers !     Here  come  the  townclerk,  magistrate !     [En- 
ter Soldiers,  Townclerk,  Magistrate  and  others.] 


106  FESTIVAL  PLAYS 


The  Townclerk. 


[Arriving  first,  and  stuttering  ivith  excitement.] 
Wli-what's    the    matter?     [He    grasps    the    situation.] 

What,  a  gang  of  slaves 

Their  will  asserting?     Know  you  not  no  will 

You   have,    hence    how    may   ye    assert    it?     [To    the 

Slaves.]     Eh?     Answer  me  that! 

The  Magistrate. 

[Arriving,  pompously.] 

Am  I  to  understand  .  .  .? 

The  Centurion. 

[Interrupting.] 
Precisely,    Magistrate !    You    are    to    understand  .  .  . 
That  is  to  say,  if  understand  you  can!     My  understand- 
ing, I  confess,  it  passes,  that  dogs  who  are  not  citizens 
should  so  defy  the  might  of  Eome !     [Indicating  himself.] 

The  Magistrate. 

Breath's  wasted !    Seize  them ;  bind  them.    Send  a  score 
To  take  their  place!     [The  Soldiers  prepare  to  obey.] 

The  Young  Slave. 

Bind,  torture  us!     In  vain! 
Aye,  crucify  us!     All  in  vain!     You'll  find 
No  one  in  Ephesos  our  place  to  take ! 

[This  produces  a  sensation.     The   Soldiers   shrink 
from  obeying  orders  to  seize  the  Slaves.] 


THE  SEVEN  SLEEPERS  OF  EPHESOS       107 

The  Magistrate. 

[Hands  upraised  in  consternation.] 
With  Ca3sar  here  in  town  .  .  .  Great  Csesar's  self  .  .  . 
Blest  Theodosius  here  the  feast  to  bless! 

The  Priest. 

The  resting  place  to  bless  of  Paulos  ...  he  who  came 
To  preach  ...  to   preach  .  .  .   [Referring   to   tablets] 
.  .  .  to  preach  .  .  . 

The  Schoolmaster. 

My  speech  his  life  rehearses.     "He  who  came 
To  preach  ...  to  preach  .  .  .   [Referring   to   tablets] 
to  preach  .  .  ." 

The  Magistrate. 

[To  the  Centurion.] 
We  waste  the  day!     Example  make  of  these! 
We'll  test  if  others  will  not  take  their  place ! 

The  Priest. 

And  be  accursed !     Let  the  Church's  curse 
Fall  on  who  shame  our  city,  Christian  heart 
Of  Christian-empired  Eome, 

An  Old  Slave  Woman. 

[Wailing.] 
Oh,  my  little  one!     My  daughter's  child  .  .  .  Son  to 
mine  old  age  .  .  .  Oh,  take  him  not  away !     [She  tries  to 


108  FESTIVAL  PLAYS 

make  Tier  way  to  the  Young  Slave,]  So  good  a  lad  and 
dutiful  .  .  .  my  Constantine!  See,  now,  masters  .  .  . 
named  for  that  great  emperor  who  set  the  cross  above  our 
city  gates  .  .  .  and  now  you  take  him  from  me!  Con- 
stantine .  .  .  would  I  might  suffer  in  your  stead! 

The  Magistrate. 
Remove  the  woman!     [Soldiers  force  her  hack.^ 

The  Young  Slave. 

There,  good  motlier,  hush!     [Soothingly. '\ 
This  deed  the  mountain's  self  will  yet  avenge!     [The 
other  Slaves  assent.] 

The  Friend. 

[Steps  forward.] 
Pardon.     A  word  I'd  venture,  by  your  leave!     [To  the 
Magistrate.] 

The  Townclerk. 

Your  name,  young  man? 

The  Centurion. 

[Olad  of  something  to  do.] 
The  townclerk  asks  your  name ! 

The  Friend. 

Unknown,  a  stranger,  matters  not.     A  friend! 
These  faithful  souls,  all  trembling,  ill   with   fear — 
What  bodes  it?     [The  Slaves  all  turn  to  him  intui- 
tively, with  hope  and  trust.] 


THE  SEVEN  SLEEPERS  OF  EPHESOS       109 

The  Magistrate. 

[Impatiently.] 

That,  who  knows  or  cares  to  know ! 

The  Eriend. 

Ah,  pardon  me!     A  Christian  Land  methought 
You  called  this ! 

All. 

[Indignant.] 

As  it  is ! 

The  Priest, 

Have  you  not  marked 
The  cross  above  each  city  gate?     And  hear  you  not 
The  chanted  Glorias!     [The  chants  are  heard  in   the 

distance.] 

Prepare  we  not 
A  tomb  for  sacred  Apostolic  bones ! 
What  infidel  denies  our  faith?     [This  creates  a  reaction 
against  the  Friend.] 

The  Friend. 

In  name 
Of  Christos,  too,  my  country  far  away 
Is  signed.     Strange  customs,  though,  with  us  obtain. 
A  slave,  the  meaner  is  his  task  and  hard. 
The  lowlier  his  spirit,  so  his  rank 
We  hold  exalted!     [This   causes  amusement   to   some. 


no  FESTIVAL  PLAYS 

hut  interests  all.     The  Slaves  reach  their  hands  toward 

the  Friend  who  continues.] 

By  oppression  crushed 
His  heart?     With  love  we  seek  to  heal  it,  arm 
Anew  with  hope !     His  wealth  who  gives  away 
To  feed  God's  poor  our  richest  citizen 
We  count!     To  dry  the  tears  of  sorrow  kings 
Contend!     Our  rod  of  empire  is  the  rule — 
The  golden  rule — Judge  none,  while  loving  all !     [This 

produces  a  great  effect  on  all,  and  for  a  moment  there  is 

silence,  hrohen  hy] 


The  Schoolmaster. 

Where  lies  this  country,  pray?     Geography, 
As  I  have  learned  it,  teach  it,  knows  it  not ! 


The  Priest. 

[Slightly  dazed.] 
Strange !     As  in  dreams  ,  .  .  Where  have  I  heard 
A  land 

Where  kindness  rules  and  service  is  but  love ! 


Several. 

[With  hands  to  head,  seehing  to  recall.] 
I  too  have  heard  .  .  .  "\Miere  is  that  country,  now 
Where  kindness  rules  and  service  is  but  love  ? 


THE  SEVEN  SLEEPERS  OF  EPHESOS       111 

The  Magistrate. 

[With  irony.] 
Since  order  in  j^our  land,  it  seems,  prevails, 
Without  so  much  as  clash  and  show  of  arms, 
How  bring  you  sullen  dogs  like  these  to  time? 
With  kindness? 

The  Friexd. 

Give  you  leave  that  I  may  try?  [The 
Crowd  favour  this,  hut  the  Officials  demur,  conferring 
apart.     Finally  they  decide  to  try  the  experiment.] 

The  Magistrate. 

[With  a  wave  of  the  hand.] 
'T  is  Eastertide.     Such  pleasantry  will  feed 
The   holidaying  humour   of   the   crowd!     [All   luatch 

with  deepest  interest,  some  hoping  the  Friend  will  fail, 

others  in  sympathy  with  him.] 

The  Friend. 

[To  the  Slaves.] 
Friends,   brothers,   weary    are   ye?     Sit,   then!     [This 
provokes   a   murmur   of   incredulity   from    the    Slaves.] 

Come, 
Your  welcome  gather  from  the  kindly  looks 
Of  these,  the  city  fathers!     Hungry,  ye? 
Athirst?  .  .  .  Here's  bread  .  .  .  and  fruit,  and  wine  .  .  . 
And  gentle  hands  to  minister!     [The  Slaves  sit,  and 
the  Friend  signs  to  the  Holiday-makers  ivho,  obeying. 


112  FESTIVAL  PLAYS 

hasten  to  open  their  haslceis,  and  hring  forth  their  stores, 
ivaiting  with  Jcindest  solicitude  on  their  wants.]  "T  is 
well! 

Feast  not  as  almoners,  but  guests  who  share 

The  blessedness  of  hospitality! 

The  Magistrate. 

[]YorJcing  himself  iip.] 
If  Babylonian  sorcerer  he  prove 
Alive  shall  he  be  flayed,  his  skin  nailed  up 
On  the  Cathedral  door ! 

The  Contractor. 

Oh,  stay  join  hand 
Till  by  his  arts  the  work  is  finished ! 

The  Magistrate. 

[With  growing  uneasiiiess.] 

But 
Wlio  is  the  man?  .  .  .  'T  was  you  who  brought  him! 
[To  the  Schoolmaster.] 

The  Schoolmaster. 

[Disclaiming  responsibility.] 

Oh, 
Not  I  his  bondsman!     Student,  said  he;  once 
A  carpenter's  apprentice,  from  some  spot 
Beyond  the  Lake  of  Galilee !     [The  Magistrate  shahes 
liis  head  doubtfully.     The  Priest  puzzles  more  than  ever. 


THE  SEVEN  SLEEPERS  OF  EPHESOS       113 

seeking  to  place  the  Stranger.  Meanwhile,  the  banquet, 
which  has  been  progressing  in  a  spirit  of  true  democracy, 
has  come  to  an  end.] 

The  Young  Slave. 

[Addressing  the  Friend.] 
With  love  love  to  requite,  our  lives  are  yours! 
Ask  what  you  will!     [The  other  Slaves  assent  to  this.] 

The  Officials. 

[Prompt  the  Friend.] 

Bid  them  the  work  complete ! 

The  Young  Slave. 

Even  to  that  last  bitterness  his  voice, 

Tender  as  heaven's  mercy  that  you  preach  [To  the 
Priest] 

Shall  nerve  our  flagging  courage.     "Where  he  leads 

Blindly  we  follow,  knowing  him  our  friend!  [The 
other  Slaves  assent,  while  all  marvel  at  this  change.] 

The  Friend. 

[To  the  Slaves.] 
First  voice  your  trouble.     Give  it  words.     Wherefore 
Ye  fear  this  grey  old  mountain?     See  where  wait 
In  kindness  all  your  friends  .  .  .  the  Magistrate, 
And  all  who  love  ye,  judging  not ! 


114  FESTIVAL  PLAYS 

The  Magistrate. 

[Smiles.] 

How  well 
My  thought  unspoken  reads  he ! 

The  Others  ix  Authority. 

Mine  as  well ! 

The  Young  Slave. 

Then  let  my  mother's  mother  tell  the  tale 
As  she  has  told  it  me!     [The  Old  Slave  Woman  is 
thrust  forward.] 

The  Magistrate. 

[Handing  her  to  a  seat.] 

Good  dame,  your  years 
Entitle  you  to  ease!  ...  So,  now;  your  tale! 

The  Old  Slave  Woman. 

Long  years  gone  hy  .  .  .  Oh,  years  agone,  when  Decius 
was  Caesar,  monster  bloodthirsty.  .  .  . 

Martinus. 

Horns,  tail,  had  he,  cleft  foot,  and  spat  he  flames  ? 
And  munched  and  crunched  the  bones  of  little  boys  ? 

The  Old  Slave  Woman. 

My  mother's  mother  told  me  not.     She  had  it  from  her 
mother's  mother.    She  from  her  mother's  mother.    She  .  .  . 


THE  SEVEN  SLEEPERS  OF  EPHESOS       Ui> 

The  Magistrate. 
[Kindly.] 
Pray  you,  skip  antecedent  mothers ! 

The  Old  Slave  Woman. 

Hard  was  the  heart  of  Deems,  hard,  hard, 

Stone-hard !  .  .  .  Who  loved  the  Christos  whom  we  love 

He  hated,  had  them  beaten,  burned  alive, 

Or  thrown  to  hungry  lions!     [Enthralled,   the  Chil- 

DKEN  exclaim.'] 

Even  so, 

Children  as  you  are,  too! 

The  Schoolmaster. 

In  terms  precise 
The  edict  reads  .  .  . 

All. 
Oh,  hush ! 

The  Old  Slave  Woman. 

Seven  there  were  .  .  . 
Of  names  and  years  like  yours!     [To  the  Schoolboys.] 

One,  Constantine, 
A  slave-boy,  noble  though  by  birth  and  soul. 
Then  Dion,  splendi'd,  athlete;  Maximus 
His  dearest  rival;  then  a  widow's  son 
Martinus;  next  loannes,  orphan  he. 


116  FESTIVAL  PLAYS 

And  Malchiis  with  a  fowl.     Thrice  he  denied 
His  Lord,  repented  of  it,  though.     And  last 
Wee  Serapion  with  a  halting  foot! 
All  Christians! 

Malchus. 

[In  all  good  faith.] 

Was  the  fowl  a  Christian  too? 


The  Old  Slave  Woman. 

[In  equally  good  faith.] 
That  surely !  .  .  .  Fled  these  seven  boys  by  night. 
Beyond  the  city  gates,  sought  refuge  here, 
Eight  on  this  spot.     Within  a  cave  they  hid ! 
Then  came  the  soldiers  and  the  furied  mob. 
And  walled  them  in  alive  with  heaped-up  stones. 
And  here  alive  they  bide  till  Judgment-Day!     [This 
produces  a  great  sensation,  though  many  seem  to  pooh- 
pooh  the  tale.] 

And  still  their  chanting  voices  may  you  hear. 
Give  Glory  to  the  Father,  to  the  Son, 
And   to    the    Holy  'Spirit  .  .  ,  Three   in    One!     [She 
pauses,  impressively,  and  indeed  at  this  moment  may  he 
heard  a  sweet,  faint  sound,  as  of  boys'  voices,  seeming  to 
issue  from  the  mountain.] 


The  Priest. 
'T  is  the  Cathedral  choir  that  practises ! 


THE  SEVEN  SLEEPERS  OF  EPHESOS       117 

The  Schoolmaster. 

Thus  fact  of  fantasy  disposes,  mocks 
An  old  wife's  tale ! 

The  Old  Slave  Woman. 

I  give  you  what  I  heard ! 
If  it  displease  you,  punish  me  .  .  .  but  not 
My  boy,  my  Constantine !  ...  If  proof  you  lack 
Another  stone  rolled  down,  rough-hewn  will  show 
A  cross  to  mock  their  sleeping-place ! 


The  Schoolmaster. 
[Seizing  a  tool.] 

To  fiction,  first  am  I  to  strike ! 


Deathblow 


The  Priest. 

[Also  seizing  a  tool.] 

Sol 
To  superstition! 

The  Magistrate. 

[Doing  the  same.] 

I  to  mutiny !  [Assisted  hij  willing 
hands  the  three  roll  down  the  stone  indicated  hy  the  old 
Slave  Woman.  As  the  cloud  of  dust  it  raises  subsides  a 
cry  arises  from  all,  for  on  the  side  of  the  mountain  thus 
exposed  is  seen  rough-hewn  a  cross.     All  now  hasten  to 


118  FESTIVAL  PLAYS 

clear  avmy  the  rubble  beneath  this,  and  soon  the  entrance 
to  a  cave  is  visible.  A  ray  of  light,  as  from  a  sunbeam, 
falls  athwart  this  opening,  whereupon  there  is  a  faint 
coclc-crow  within  the  cave.  So  great  a  panic  does  this 
cau^e  that  most  of  the  people  run  away,  the  Magistrate, 
the  Priest,  and  the  Schoolmaster  in  the  lead.  Only 
the  Schoolboys  remain  with  the  Friend.  Then,  one 
by  one  the  people  creep  back,  the  Old  Slave  Woman  and 
her  grandson  first,  and  the  officials  last  and  most  cautiously 
of  all.] 

The  Seven  Sleepers. 

[Within  the  cave  call  one  to  another.] 
What,  ho !     'T  is  morning !     See  the  sun  hath  risen ! 
[One  by  one  yawning  and  stretching  they  come  from  the 
cave.] 

CoNSTANTiNE    [the  Sleeper], 

After  night's  tempest,  ah,  how  sweet  the  morn! 

But  .  .  .  what  a  change !     All  hushed  the  frenzied  din 

That  rent  the  skies  of  yesterday!     No  more 

The  market-place  runs  hlood,  with  fire  and  sword 

As  man  hunts  down  his  fellow-creatures!     Calm 

The  city  rests,  and  rises  like  a  song 

The  hum  of  gently  avocationed  lives 

And  happy  people!     And  .  .  .  surely  I  dream! 

Above  the  city  gate  a  cross  .  .  .  the  cross 

Of  Christos  .  .  .  Him  for  love  of  whom  we  fled. 

Were  prisoned  here  last  night! 


tA' 


.-^ 


'What,  ho!  ^tis  morning!  See,  the  Sun  hath  risen. 


THE  SEVEN  SLEEPERS  OF  EPHESOS       119 

The  Schoolmaster. 

[Explaining.] 

That  night,  how  long  I 
A  century  and  half  a  century!     [All  hush  him,  though 
the  young  Sleeper  seems  not  to  have  heard  him,  nor  in- 
deed to  he  aware  that  others  are  pi'esent.] 

loAXNES  [the  Sleeper], 

[Coming  forth.] 
Let's  to  the  river  and  skip  oyster-shells. 
Or  sail  our  galleys !     'T  is  a  holiday. 
'T  is  Artemision ! 

The  Priest. 

[Kindly  correcting.] 

Come,  come,  my  child; 
Forbear   such   terms   and   call   it  Easter!     [The   other 
watchers  silence  him,  though  still  the  Sleepers  fail  to 
notice  them.] 

Diox  [the  Sleeper] 

[Coming  forth.] 

Fine  weather  for  the  games !     Ho,  Maximus ! 
I'll  race  you  to  the  city  gate  and  back ! 

Maximus    [the  Sleeper]. 

[Coming  forth.] 
Wait,  Dion,  till  I  get  my  breath!     [Yawiis.]     How  stiff 
My  muscles!     [Stretching.] 


120  FESTIVAL  PLAYS 

Dion  and  Maximus  [the  Schoolboys]. 

[Advancing  with  outstretched  hands.] 
Dion  and  Maximus, 
Even  as  we,  come  to  the  stadion!     [But  the  others  fail 
to  see  them  or  to  heed  the  invitation.] 

Martinus  [the  Sleeper]. 

[Coming  forth.] 
That  loaf  of  bread  my  mother  sent  me  for 
I  was  forgetting  it!     That  tetradrachm 
She  bade  me  change,  where  is  it  ?  ...  I  forgot ! 
At  flipcoin  lost  I  it  to  Malchus ! 

Martinus  [the  Schoolboy]. 

Just 


As  I  did ! 


Malchus   [the  Sleeper], 


[Coming  forth,  carrying  a  baslhct.] 

Here,  Martinus !     Take  your  coin ! 
We  slept  on  it,  Alexandros  and  I ! 
Your  mother's  is  it,  so  not  yours  to  lose, 
Xor  mine  to  win ! 


Martinus   [the  Sleeper]. 

[Accepting  the  coin  the  other  holds  out  to  him.] 
I  thank  you,  Malchus  ! 


THE  SEVEN  SLEEPERS  OF  EPHESOS       121 

Malchus   [the  Sclioolhoy]. 

I, 

Too,  thank  you,  namesake  mine!     Martinus,  here! 
Take  back  yonr  mother's  tetradrachm ! 

Martinus  [tlie  Sclioolhoy]. 

[Accepting  the  coin  his  friend  holds  out  to  him.] 

Malchus, 

I  say,  that's  fine! 

Serapion   [the  Sleeper]. 

My  iEsop's  fables  must  I  get  by  heart !     "A  nightingale 
did  sing  .  .  .  did  sing  ...  did  sing  .  .  ." 

Serapion   [the  Schoolboy} 

[Prompting.] 
"When  hungry  hawk  espied  her!"     My  name  is  Sera- 
pion, too ! 

Serapion   [the  Sleeper], 

[Seeing  him.] 
Oh,  what  a  funny  looking  little  boy ! 

Serapion  [the  Schoolboy'] 

Funny  looking  yourself !     I  knew  more  of  the  fable  than 
you  did,  anyway! 


122  FESTIVAL  PLAYS 

Serapion  [the  Sleeper]. 

[To  his  fellows.] 
Look  I     A  little  bo}' !  .  .  .  And,  oh,  crowds  and  crowds 
of  people  I 

The  Other  Sleepers. 

Xo,  dear  child !     There's  no  one  but  ourselves ! 

Serapion   [the  Sleeper]. 

But  I  see  them  clearly !  .  .  .  Come  and  play  with  me ! 
[To  the  other  Serapion.] 

Serapion  [the  Schoolboy] 

[Timidly  advancing.] 
I'd  like  to,  but  ,  .  .  somehow  .  .  .  you  seem  .  .  .  not 
reaL  .  .  .  No,  I  don't  mean  tliat!     But  just  as  if  you 
came  out  of  a  dream ! 

Serapion   [the  Sleeper]. 

Dream  yourself!  Why,  as  I  look  at  you  you  fade  and 
fade  away  .  .  .  and  now  I  don't  see  you  at  all !  .  .  .  Con- 
stantine,  is  it  true  we  shall  be  put  to  death  for  loving 
Christos  ? 

The  Other  Sleepers, 

[Suddenly  recalling  tlieir  plight.] 
Aye;  truth  is  it,  or  dream? 


THE  SEVEN  SLEEPERS  OF  EPHESOS       123 

CoNSTANTiNE  [Uie  Shcper]. 

Dream  of  a  night 
Forever  vanished!  .  .  .  Listen  to  the  song 
Praising  the  God  of  Love!     [Clear  and  sweet  rises  the 

sound  of  the  Gloria.     The  Sleepers,  rejoicing,  seel-  to  join 

in  it,  hut  their  voices  fail  them.] 

Serapion   [the  Sleeper^. 
Home  .  .  .  then  may  we  go  home? 

The  Other  Sleepers. 

Home !     That's  the  word ! 
May  we  go  home?     [The  Friend  stands  forth,  and  a 
radiance  comes  from  him.     Constantine  the  Sleeper  sees 
him,  and  exclaims,  joyfully.] 

CoNSTANTiNE  [the  Sleeper]. 

Home,  home!     Here  is  a  friend 
Will  guide  us!     [The  Friend  passes  quietly  from  the 
scene,  a  light  streaming  from,  the  direction  he  has  taken. 
The  Sleepers  stretch  their  hands  toward  him,  with  a  joy- 
ful cry.] 

The  Seven  Sleepers. 

Lead,  Master !  We  follow  .  .  .  follow  .  .  .  home !  [Even 
while  speaking  they  sink  down  on  the  ground  near  the 
cave,  and  close  their  eyes  as  if  in  sleep.  The  Emperor 
and  his  suite  approach,  as  if  they  had  been  looking  on,  near 
by,  and  fall  reverently  on  their  knees,  their  example  be- 


124  FESTIVAL  PLAYS 

ing  followed  by  the  multitude,  while  the  chant  rises  ever 
more  clear  and  sweet.  The  Seven  Schoolboys  pluclc 
brightly  flowering  branches  and  lay  these  beside  the 
Sleepers  and  shower  blossoms  over  them.  And  so  the 
scene  fades  from  our  sight.] 


PRINCESS  MOSS-ROSE 

For  Every  Child's  Birthday 


GEEETING 
TO  THE  AUDIENCE 

Spoken  in  front  of  the  curtain 

by 

THE  CHILD  WHOSE  BIETHDAY  IT  IS 

To-day  it  is  my  birthday.  Yes!  Now  who  this  group 
among 

Can  guess,  I  wonder,  just  how  old  I  am,  or  just  how 
young: 

One,  two,  three,  four,  five,  six,  or  seven;  eight,  nine,  ten, 
or  .  .  .  stay! 

I'm  one  year  older  than  I  was  this  same  hour  yesterday ! 

Wait  till  you  see  my  birthday  cake  in  which  a  candle  burns 

For  every  year  I've  lived,  plus  one  for  luck  and  glad  re- 
turns ! 

I've  read  that  children  carefully  their  birthdays  ought  to 

keep. 
And  yet  how  can  we,  when  they  come,  and  go,  when  we're 

asleep  ? 
Still,  if  you'll  kindly  help  me  keep  this  one  I'll  do  my  best 
That  no  one  ...  no,  not  even  Time,  shall  rob  me  of  the 

rest! 
Then  when  I'm  very,  very  old  I'll  tell  you  what  I'll  do : 
I'll  give  those  birthdays  all  away.    And  some  I'll  give  to 
you! 


If6 


PRINCESS  MOSS-ROSE 

We  shall  noiv  witness  Three  Events  in  the  Life  of  the 
Princess  Moss-Eose.  These  take  place  in  the  hall 
of  her  father's  castle.  Besides  the  Princess  herself 
her  parents,  the  King  and  Queen,  will  assist  at  the 
Events,  also  the  Court:  the  Lord  High  Chancel- 
lor, the  EoYAL  XuRSE,  Governess,  Butler,  Cook, 
Gardener,  and  Lords  and  Ladies  of  Quality. 
Huntsmen,  Pages  and  Lackeys,  too,  will  come  and 
go  as  they  are  needed.  Then  there  is  a  Frog  of  high 
degree  in  Frogdom,  who  will  receive  the  hnightly  ac- 
colade, thereafter  being  known  as  Sir  Amphibious 
Batrachian,  with  the  right  also  to  call  himself 
Baron  Freshwater.  Two  Tadpoles  who  grow  up 
into  rather  grouchy,  rheumatic  elderly  Frogs  are  of 
his  retinue.  The  Three  Fates  and  Destiny  have 
inconspicuous,  hut  important  parts  in  the  Events. 
Then  we  shall  also  see  several  Fragments  of  Kings' 
Sons  who  have  perished  in  their  quest  for  the  fabled 
Moss-EosE,  and,  accompanied  by  his  tutor,  Mentor, 
the  victorous  King's  Son,  Prince  Charming.  Six- 
teen years  divide  the  Second  Event  from  the  first, 
and  one  hundred  years  the  Third  from  the  Second. 
These  passages  of  time,  however,  touch  our  royal 
friends  but  lightly,  and  do  not  cause  their  royal 
clothes  to  wear  out,  or  their  royal  furniture  to  become 
fthabby  in  the  least.  The  scene  is  laid  in  the  hall  of 
127 


128  FESTIVAL  PLAYS 

the  King's  castle,  an  apartment  of  suitable  magnif- 
icence. Entrances  lead  to  lanqueting-hall,  servants' 
offices,  and  other  parts  of  the  establishment.  Win- 
dows overlook  the  attractive  grounds  with  a  glimpse 
of  the  forest  beyond. 

THE  FIRST  EVENT 

shoivs  a  pleasant  morning  in  summer.  The  Kino 
and  his  Huntsmen  are  assembled  in  the  hall,  singing 
a  jovial  hunting-chorus,  while  without  the  Dogs  bay, 
and  the  Horses  champ  with  proper  impatience  for 
the  start. 

HUNTING  CHOEUS 

Ho,  Yoicks!  ho! 

Hey,  tally-ho ! 

A-hunting,  hunting,  hunting;  a-hunting  will  we  go! 

We'll  hunt  by  day,  and  we'll  hunt  by  dark ; 

We'll  hunt  the  slipper,  we'll  hunt  the  snark; 

The  lion,  tiger  and  buffalo, 

We'll  hunt  them  all,  Ho,  Yoicks,  ho! 

We'll  hunt  the  bulrush  and  bull-moose. 

We'll  hunt  mongander  and  mongoose ! 

We'll  hunt  the  pole-cat,  polar  bear, 

The  hairy  musk-ox  and  the  hare, 

We'll  hunt  the  dodo,  dinosaur. 

The  wild-boar  and  tame,  talking  bore ! 

Aye,  all  the  beasts  in  Noah's  Ark 

We'll  hunt  by  day  and  hunt  by  dark ! 

And  every  one  of  them,  you'll  see. 

Will  love  the  sport  as  much  as  we. 


PRINCESS  MOSS-ROSE  129 

Because  to  kill  is  not  our  aim, 

Or  hurt,  since  that  would  spoil  the  game! 

So,  Yoicks,  so. 

Hey,  tally-ho! 

A-hunting,  hunting,  hunting;  a-hunting  will  we  go! 

[At  the  close  of  the  Hunting  Song  the  King  and  his 
suite  are  about  to  go  when  the  Lokd  High  Chan- 
cellor enters  with  as  much  haste  as  his  girth  and 
dignity  allow.] 

The  Chancellor. 

The  King,  the  King,  where  is  the  King !  .  .  .  Oh,  Sire, 

I  feared  I  should  be  too  late  1  Her  Majesty  the  Queen 
begs  you  to  forego  your  day's  hunting,  as  she  has  a  piece 
of  news  of  the  utmost  importance  to  communicate  to  you ! 

The  King. 

My  dear  Lord  High  Chancellor,  I  am  always  most  anx- 
ious to  please  the  Queen,  as  well  you  know,  but  as  you  can 
see  and  hear  for  yourself,  the  nettlesome  steeds  are  sad- 
dled, and  are  champing  and  pawing  the  ground,  the 
hounds  are  baying,  and  all  the  wild  animals  in  the  royal 
forest  are  gnashing  their  teeth  and  growling  fearsomely, 
impatient  for  the  day's  sport  to  begin! 

The  Chancellor. 

Nevertheless,  Sire,  under  the  circumstances  .  .  .  the  ex- 
traordinary circumstances  .  .  . 


130  FESTIVAL  PLAYS 


The  King. 


Does  the  Queen's  news  concern  itself  with  house-clean- 
ing the  castle?  Or  is  Her  Majesty  desirous  of  purchas- 
ing a  new  crown?  If  so,  can't  you  suggest  to  her  to  get 
the  old  one  turned  and  made  over?  The  jewels  in  it  are 
not  in  the  least  shabby;  they  are  as  good  as  new,  in  fact! 

The  Chancellor. 

Sire,  this  is  more  important  even  than  a  crown !  Here 
comes  the  Queen  herself  to  tell  you  all  about  it! 

[The  Queen  enters  to  a  flourish  of  trumpets,  at- 
tended hy  her  Ladies.  Following  these  comes  the 
EoYAL  Nurse  bearing  a  tiny  infant,  wrapped  in  a 
magnificent  silken  coverlet.  The  Nurse  stands 
in  the  haclcground,  with  the  Ladies,  while  the 
Queen  converses  with  the  King.] 

The  Queen. 
Oh,  my  dear,  what  luck  to  have  caught  you ! 

The  King. 
How  can  I  serve  my  gracious  consort? 

The  Queen. 

[About  to  tell  him  the  news.]  Listen,  then,  and  I'll 
begin  at  the  beginning. 


PRINCESS  MOSS-ROSE  131 

The  King. 

As  you  please!     Hark!     What  noise  is  that! 

[He  listens,  while  a  slight  wail  issues  from  the  bun- 
dle the  Nurse  carries.] 

The  Queen. 

Guess ! 

The  Ejng. 

If  it  is  the  throne-room  door  that  is  screaking  it  had 
better  be  oiled ! 

[Protesting   exclamations  rise  from  all  the  Ladies 
and  the  Nurse  at  this  prosaic  idea.] 

The  Queen. 
[Amused,  as  if  it  were  a  game.]     Oh,  cold,  cold! 

The  King. 

If  any  of  the  Dukes  have  on  new  boots  that  creak  they 
must  be  banished  from  Court  for  a  while.  Boots  should 
be  Been  but  not  heard ! 

The  Queen  and  the  Ladies. 
Boots,  indeed !     Cold,  cold ! 

The  King. 

There  it  goes  again.  Sounds  like  a  kitten,  or  a  little 
squealing  pig! 

[The  Queen,  Nurse  and  Ladies  protest  violently.] 


182  FESTIVAL  PLAYS 

The  Chancellor. 
Warm — in  the  temperate  zone! 

The  King. 

I  have  it.    It's  a  mechanical  toy.     One  of  those  dolls 
from  Paris  that  say  "Papa,  Mama/'  when  you  pinch  them ! 
[All  laugh  at  this.] 

The  Queen. 

Hot!  Getting  hot!  My  dear,  suppose  it  were  a  doll, 
what  should  we  wish  for? 

The  King. 
I  don't  know,  Pm  sure !    Is  it  a  doll  ? 

The  Queen. 
It  most  certainly  is  not ! 

The  King. 

Then  what  is  the  use  of  wishing  anything,  or  of  guess- 
ing what  we  should  wish  for,  if  it  were  a  doll!  .  .  . 
Mayn't  I  go  hunting  now  ? 

The  Queen. 

No!  You  darling  stupid,  I  shall  have  to  tell  you! 
But  let  me  begin  at  the  beginning. 


PRINCESS  MOSS-ROSE  133 


The  King. 


[With  resignation.]  As  you  please!  Only  that  Ben- 
galese  tiger  does  so  hate  to  be  kept  waiting. !     [All  sit.] 

The  Queen. 

This  morning  I  went  into  the  garden  to  watch  the 
gardener  set  out  the  rose  bed,  and  while  sitting  there  be- 
side the  fountain  a  great  big  frog  jumped  out  of  the  basin, 
and  spoke  to  me.  It  is  true  that  he  splashed  me  a  wee 
bit,  but  he  apologised  so  prettily  I  didn't  really  mind ! 
"Good  morning,  fair  Queen,"  said  he.  "I  know  wherefore 
you  are  sad!" 

The  Kjng. 

Oh!     But  were  you  sad? 

The  Queen. 

No !  But  that's  what  he  said  I  "Cease  weeping  and  dry 
your  lovely  eyes,"  he  then  went  on !" 

The  King. 
But  were  you  weeping,  and  did  you  dry  your  lovely  eyes  ? 

The  Queen. 

No,  I  can't  say  I  was  or  did !  However  that's  what  he 
said! 


134  FESTIVAL  PLAYS 

The  Chancellor. 

[Explains.]  Queens  and  princesses  generally  weep  be- 
side a  fountain,  Sire !  You'll  find  it  here  in  the  "Book  of 
Eoyal  Etiquette"!  [He  turns  over  the  leaves  of  a  huge 
volume.]  It  is  customary  for  them  accidentally  to  drop 
a  precious  ring  into  its  green  depths,  and  then  to  shed 
tears  over  it! 

The  King. 

I  see!     Go  on,  my  love! 

The  Queen. 

The  frog  continued,  "It  is  your  birthday!"  "Oh,"  I 
replied,  "I  know  that!  And  I'm  sure  the  dear  King  is 
going  to  surprise  me  with  a  beautiful  present!" 

The  King. 

Of  course!  I  was  just  on  my  way  to  inquire  why  it 
has  not  been  sent ! 

The  Queen. 

But  it  has  been  sent!  It  is  here!  That  is  the  great 
news !  That  is  what  the  frog  told  me !  "Go  home,"  said 
he,  "and  look  in  your  work-basket,  and  see  what  you  will 
find  all  rolled  up  in  the  red  and  yellow  comforter  you  are 
knitting  for  a  surprise  for  the  King  on  his  birthday!" 
And  there  indeed  I  found  it!  And,  oh,  nothing  else  in 
all  the  world  could  have  given  me  one  millionth  part  of 
the  pleasure ! 


PRINCESS  MOSS-ROSE  135 

The  King. 
I  thought  you'd  like  it.     Is  it  becoming?     Does  it  fit? 

The  Queen. 

Eh? 

The  King. 

I  told  them  to  send  the  very  latest  style,  but  you  can 
have  it  changed  if  it  isn't  the  right  size! 

The  Queen. 

It  is  perfect  in  every  respect,  absolutely  perfect!     Eh, 
my  Ladies? 

The  Ladies. 

[Enthiisiastically.]     Yes,  indeed.  Your  Majesty! 

The  King. 
Good!  .  .  .  Whatever  is  that  queer  noise? 

The  Queen. 
Why,  didn't  you  know  it  could  do  that? 

The  King. 

It  sounded  very  different  in  the  shop !     But  we  can  get 
the  piano-tuner  to  attend  to  it! 

The  Chancellor. 
His  Majesty  is  so  full  of  humour ! 


136  FESTIVAL  PLAYS 

The  Queen. 

Come  and  have  a  peep  at  it ! 

[The  Nurse  approaches  with  her  precious  iundle, 
but  the  King  draws  back.] 

The  King. 

Those  little  kinds  are  so  snappish!  Did  they  send  the 
collar  and  the  chain? 

The  Queen. 

Now,  my  love,  I  know  you  are  very  absent-minded! 
Last  year  when  I  wanted  a  diamond  bracelet  you  got  me 
a  silver  thimble,  but  when  it  comes  to  a  little  daughter 
...  a  sweet  little  baby  daughter  .  .  .    ! 

The  King. 

Bless  my  soul  ...  a  daughter!  To  be  sure!  I  hope 
they  packed  her  carefully ! 

The  Ladies. 

Her  Eoyal  Highness  is  perfect!  Absolutely  the  loveli- 
est baby  that  ever  was ! 

The  King. 

[Looking  at  the  baby  which  is  now  presented  for  his 
closer  inspection.]  As  babies  go  she  really  is  .  .  .  well, 
she  is  a  baby !  My  Lord  High  Chancellor,  what  does  one 
say  to  them? 


PRINCESS  MOSS-ROSE  137 

The  Chancellor. 

I  have  been  looking  that  up,  Sire,  and  I  find  that  "Did- 
dums  wasms"  is  not  unacceptable  in  the  earlier  stages  of 
conversation  with  little  Eoyal  Highnesses ! 

The  King. 

[As  if  learning  a  lesson.]  Diddums  wasms!  Wasms 
Diddums!     I  never  shall  remember  that! 

The  Chancellor. 
How  about  simple  Duckums,  or  Ooo-galloo-galloo  ? 

The  King. 

[Experiments  with  these.]  That's  better.  [He  turns 
again  to  the  group.]  Now  what  shall  we  do  to  celebrate 
this  joyful  occasion?  Suppose  I  go  a-hunting  and  bring 
in  a  pretty  spotted  leopard,  a  great,  big,  huggy  bear,  or  a 
gaudy  tiger  with  orange  stripes  to  play  with  the  little  one ! 

The  Chancellor. 

The  usual  thing,  Sire,  is  to  hold  a  feast  ...  a  christen- 
ing feast! 

The  Queen. 

Yes,  my  dear ;  our  child  must  have  a  name !  Now  what 
shall  it  be  ? 

The  Chancellor. 

Why  not  call  the  Princess  after  Your  Majesties? 


138  FESTIVAL  PLAYS 


The  King. 


Too  commonplace.  I  am  King  Johannes,  Ivor,  Ivan, 
Ian,  Giovanni,  Juan,  John!  And  the  Queen  is  Marietta, 
Marina,  Marequita,  Marioletta,  Polyanthus  Mary!  No; 
we  want  something  more  distinguished!  Now  who  has 
something  to  suggest?    Begin  with  A. 

The  ladies. 

[One  after  another.]  Abel,  Abraham,  Apple-dumpling, 
Andalusia,  Artichoke. 

The  King. 
Artichoke !     That's  a  good  name  for  a  baby ! 

The  Chancellor. 
That's  a  boy's  name,  Sire ! 

The  King. 
Why  not  Asparagus — Gussie  for  short? 

The  Chancellor. 
Too  kitchen-gardeny ! 

The  King. 

Well,  let's  try  B.  Benjamin,  Bohemia,  Bank-account, 
Bootblack,  Baronet  .  .  . 


PRINCESS  MOSS-ROSE  139 

The  Chancellor. 

Too  masculine ! 

The  King. 

Well,  then,  go  on  with  C. 

The  Ladies. 

[Suggesting  in  turn.]  Calico,  Caramel  .  .  .  That's  a 
Bweet  one!     Crystal-gazer,  Caraway-seed  .  .  . 

The  Queen. 
My  dear,  why  not  name  her  after  a  flower? 

The  King. 

Good!  What  flower  begins  with  C?  I  have  it:  Cauli- 
flower!    Or  Castor-Oil  bean!     Columbine! 

The  Queen. 

ITo,  no!  Let  us  call  her  after  the  queen  of  flowers, 
rose  I  And  as  the  gardener  was  just  setting  out  one  when 
the  frog  accosted  me,  why  not  Moss-Eose? 

All. 

Oh,  yes;  Moss-Eose!     Princess  Moss-Eose! 

The  King. 

I  like  that!  There's  something  soft  and  tender  about 
it !     It  moves  me  to  tears,  or  at  least  to  a  tear !    That  is. 


140  FESTIVAL  PLAYS 

if  the  Lord  High  Chancellor  has  no  objection,  and  I  can 
find  my  pocket-handkerchief! 

The  Chancellor. 

Tears  on  the  part  of  Your  Majesty  are  quite  appro- 
priate !  Let  the  Court  Chronicler  note  that  the  King  ehed 
tears ! 

The  King. 

A  tear  ...  a  single  one!  I  insist  that  history  shall 
not  be  falsified ! 

The  Chancellor. 

A  single  tear  .  .  .  Eeally,  Sire,  it  is  never  done!  Try 
and  screw  out  another,  I  beg! 

The  King. 

Oh,  have  it  your  own  way,  then!  Tears!  [He  wipes 
his  eyes,  and  the  Court  Chronicler  records  the  episode.] 

The  Chancellor. 

[Considering.]  Moss-Eose.  And  for  extra  names 
without  which,  of  course,  no  person  of  royal  birth  should 
be,  the  Princess  can  have  the  botanical  terms,  Rosa  Centi- 
folia,  Rosacese! 

The  Queen. 
I  don't  think  I  want  my  baby  called  that ! 


PRINCESS  MOSS-ROSE  141 

The  Chancellor. 
Madam,  no  one  would  ever  think  of  using  these !     But 
Eoyal  Persons  have  to  own  them! 

The  Queen. 

Oh,  then,  it  is  all  right!  Now  we  must  choose  god- 
parents! For  godmothers  I  want  all  the  wise  women 
and  good  fairies  in  the  kingdom !  Because  instead  of  the 
usual  commonplace  sterling  silver  mug  they  will  bestow 
on  our  child  blessings :  virtues  and  talents ! 

The  King. 

A  capital  idea!  Have  we  their  names,  my  Lord  High 
Chancellor  ? 

The  Chancellor. 

[Referring  to  a  volume.]  The  latest  census  gives  the 
list:  Fairy  Good-Looks,  Fairy  Good-Heart,  Fairy  Good- 
Temper,  and  Fairy  Good-Manners ! 

The  King  and  Queen. 

Excellent ! 

The  Chancellor. 

Then  there  are  the  Wise  Women :  Dame  Honesty,  Dame 
Diligence,  Dame  Order  and  Dame  Thrift.  Then  there's 
Lady  Generosity  and  Countess  Courage! 

The  Queen. 
Oh,  we  must  have  them  all,  every  one ! 


142  FESTIVAL  PLAYS 

The  King. 

[Agreeing.]     Surely!     Every  blessed  one! 

The  Chancellor. 

Then   there   are  those   two   old-fashioned   gentlewomen 
whom  everybody  respects,  the  Sisters  Purity  and  Piety ! 

The  Queen. 

Oh,  these  above  all! 

The  King. 

By  all  means !  Let  Heralds  be  sent  forth  north,  south, 
east  and  west,  inviting  them !     What  about  the  godfather  ? 

The  Chancellor. 

Some  neighbouring  potentate.  Some  reigning  mon- 
arch ! 

The  King. 

[Demurring.]  TJm-m-m!  They're  all  so  uneducated! 
They  only  talk  foreign  languages.  And  I  never  can  feel 
sociable  with  people  through  an  interpreter! 

The  Queen. 

My  dear,  I  have  a  suggestion.  I  know  you'll  think  it 
odd,  but  why  not  that  dear,  delightful  frog  who  brought 
me  the  joyful  news? 


PRINCESS  MOSS-ROSE  143 

The  King. 

Hm !  A  frog  for  godfather.  Is  that  ever  done,  my 
Lord  High  Chancellor? 

The  Chancellor. 

I  can't  at  this  moment  recall  an  instance.  Sire,  but  I'll 
look  it  up ! 

[He  consults  a  volume.] 

The  Queen. 

He  has  charming  manners.  And  he  would  not  mind 
being  splashed  if  he  held  the  baby  at  the  font ! 

The  King. 

I  wonder  if  it  would  be  considered  anarchistic  by  the 
populace  ? 

The  Chancellor. 

You  could  bestow  a  title  on  him.  Puss-In-Boots  was 
knighted,  I  find! 

The  King. 

I  wonder  how  he  would  mix  in  with  the  rest  of  the 
company.  For  example,  however  would  he  sit  down  to 
table? 

The  Queen. 

Why  not  have  a  large  finger-bowl,  or  a  sitz-bath,  placed 
on  a  chair  for  him? 


144.  FESTIVAL  PLAYS 


The  Chancellor. 


A  very  happy  suggestion  on  the  part  of  Your  Majesty! 
But  .  .  . 

The  Queen. 

And  what  a  figure  he  would  make  at  the  Court  ball ! 
I'm  sure  he  can  do  the  latest  dances  beautifully! 

The  King. 

I'll  take  it  under  consideration.  It  is  not  a  matter  in 
which  to  act  hastily!  .  .  .  Whatever  noise  is  that? 
Surely  not  another  birthday  present ! 

[The  Frog  is  heard  approaching  with  a  measured 
Tcer-plunk.] 

The  Chancellor. 

[Lool'ing  down  the  corridor.]  Why,  speak  of  a  dis- 
tinguished visitor,  and  here  he  comes! 

The  Herald. 

[Blows  a  blast.] 

The  Butler. 

[Announces.]     The  Honorable  Mr.  Frog  of  Frog-Pond ! 
[The  Frog  enters.     He  wears  high  rubber  boots,  and 
carries  a  storm-coat  over  his  arm.] 

The  Queen. 
My  dear  Mr.  Frog,  how  kind  tliis  is! 


PRINCESS  MOSS-ROSE  145 

The  Frog. 

Not  at  all !     How-do  !     How-do  ! 

The  Queen. 

[Presenting.]  The  King,  The  Princess  Eoyal.  The 
Lord  High  Chancellor.     The  Court. 

The  Frog. 

How-do!  How-do!.  [The  Butler  approaches  him.] 
and  discreetly  tries  to  get  his  storm-coat  away  from  him, 
but  he  resists.]  Let  it  alone !  .  .  .  I  always  carry  it  with 
me  when  I'm  likely  to  be  asked  to  stay  to  lunch  .  .  .  [He 
pauses  and  coughs  slightly.  All  do  the  same.  He  con- 
tinues.] Sometimes  the  ladies  next  me  complain  of  the 
damp !  .  .  .  These  boots,  too,  they  protect  me  from  drip- 
ping and  slipping!     Slipping  and  dripping! 

The  Queen. 

Most  considerate!  [She  sits  and  indicates  a  seat  which 
the  Frog  takes.  All  sit.]  You  come  upon  us  in  family 
conclave.  We  are  trying  to  find  a  godfather  for  the  Prin- 
cess!    [All  cough  meaningly.] 

The  Frog. 

My  stars,  what  an  extraordinary  coincidence! 

All. 
[Interested.]     Eh?    What's  that? 


146  FESTIVAL  PLAYS 


The  Frog. 


Speaking  of  such  things — Excuse  me.  [He  breaks  off, 
and  skipping  toward  the  entrance,  croaks  very  loud.  He 
is  answered  hy  tivo  smaller  croaks,  uttered  by  two  small 
frogs,  dressed  like  lackeys,  idIio  now  enter,  bearing  a  huge 
silver  mug.  This  our  Frog  presents  to  the  King  and 
Queen,  after  a  suitable  explanation.']  This  little  token  .  .  . 
oh,  a  mere  trifle,  but,  as  you  observe,  solid  silver  and  richly 
chased  ...  I  found  it  at  the  bottom  of  a  pond !  It  was 
probably  dropped  there  by  some  prehistoric  princess  when 
babies  were  larger  than  they  are  nowadays !  I  fancied  it 
might  come  in  useful,  so  took  the  liberty  ,  .  .    ! 

The  Queen. 

How  very,  very  kind!  .  .  .  My  dear,  isn't  it  very,  very 
kind? 

The  King. 

Oh,  very,  very,  very  kind !  Eh,  my  Lord  High  Chan- 
cellor ? 

The  Chancellor. 

Oh,  very,  very,  very,  very  kind ! 

The  Court. 
Very,  ver}',  very,  very,  very  kind ! 

The  King. 

It  would  make  a  lovely  umbrella-stand !  .  .  .  I  mean,  of 
course,  till  the  baby  is  large  enough  to  drink  from  it! 


PRINCESS  MOSS-ROSE  147 

The  Feog. 

So  glad  you're  pleased !  .  .  .  Well,  as  it's  near  my  lunch 
hour  I  must  be  going!  .  .  .  Any  time  you're  near  my 
pond  just  drop  in ! 

The  Queen. 

Oh,  but  you  must  stay !  To  lunch,  and  to  the  christen- 
ing.    We  want  you  to  be  baby's  godfather ;  eh,  my  love  ? 

The  King. 
Of  course  we  do  !     I  was  saying  so  when  you  came  in ! 

The  Peog. 

That's  very  nice  of  you.  I  can  sing  to  the  little  one, 
you  know !  [Croahs  in  imitation  of  an  opera-singer.] 
I'm  soloist  in  our  glee-club,  in  the  pond ! 

The  Queen. 

Delightful!  And  I'm  sure  you  can  dance  with  those 
springy  legs  of  yours! 

The  Feog. 

Good  gracious,  yes!  I  can  lift  any  lady  clear  off  her 
feet,  and  throw  her  plump  into  the  fountain !  [He  starts 
to  dance,  lut  the  King  restrains  him.] 

The  King. 

Later  you  shall  give  us  an  exhibition  of  your  skill.  But 
first  you  must  be  knighted !  ...  Is  there  a  sword  handy, 
my  Lord? 


lis  FESTIVAL  PLAYS 

The  Chancellor. 

Here,   Sire!     The  carving-knife  will  serve!     [He  gets 
the  carving -hnife  from  the  table  and  hands  it  to  the  King.] 


The  Frog, 

[Shrinking  back.]     The  carving-knife !     Xow,  really  I 
.  .  .  My  skin  is  very  sensitive,  in  spite  of  appearances  I 


The  King. 

Bless  my  soul,  you  needn't  be  afraid !  It  was  a  wed- 
ding-present to  myself  and  the  Queen !  There  never  was 
the  slightest  edge  to  it !  .  .  .  Will  you  kindly  kneel  as  well 
as  you  can?  [The  Prog  does  so,  and  the  King  gives  him 
a  slap  with  the  flat  of  the  Made,  saying:]  Eise  up,  Sir 
Amphibious  Batrachian  of  Pondmere,  Baron  Preshwatoi 
Warden  of  the  Marshes,  and  Court  Croaker  Extraordinary ! 


All. 

Hurrah!  Three  cheers  for  8ir  Amphibious  Batrachian 
of  Pondmere,  Baron  Freshwater,  Warden  of  the  Marshes, 
and  Court  Croaker  Extraordinary ! 


The  Frog. 

Ha,  ha!     Pretty  fine,  eh,  what?     But  to  my  intimates, 
as  always.  Frog,  plain  Frog! 


PRINCESS  MOSS-ROSE  149 

The  King. 

And  now  to  lunch.  The  christening  shall  be  held  as 
Boon  as  the  godmothers  arrive. 

The  Chancellor. 

[Who  has  heen  consuUing  one  of  his  hooJcs.]  Sire, 
there  is  one  Wise  Woman  we  omitted! 

The  King. 

Her  name? 

The  Chancellor. 

She  has  several  aliases,  so  that  she  can  always  prove  an 
alibi!  Envy,  Hatred,  Malice,  and  All-Uncharitableness ! 
She  is  best  known  as  Gossip,  or  Busy-Body ! 

The  King. 
Has  she  ever  been  presented  here  at  Court? 

The  Chancellor. 

Xot  yet,  Sire,  though  she  has  repeatedly  sought  to  be. 
She  has  never  quite  passed  her  examination  on  the  Nine 
Points  of  Etiquette. 

The  Queen. 

It  would  make  no  difference  if  she  had.  I  never  would 
consent  to  receive  such  a  person!  Besides,  we  haven't 
spoons  and  forks  enough ! 


150  FESTIVAL  PLAYS 

The  Chancellor. 

But,  Madam,  unless  we  conciliate  her  I  fear  the  maj 
make  some  trouble  for  the  Princess! 

The  Queen. 

What,  hurt  my  baby ! 

The  King. 
What,  annoy  my  heiress-apparent! 

The  Frog. 
What,  disturb  my  goddaughter! 

The  Court. 

What,  injure  our  Princess!  [All  surround  the  Nurse 
a7id  Baby  protectingly.] 

The  Chancellor. 

Eeally,  I  do  think  it  would  be  advisable  to  placate  the 
person ! 

The  Frog. 

[  Waving  his  hand  so  as  to  splash  the  Chancellor  while 
speal-ing.]  Now,  my  dear  fellow,  while  I  hate  to  throw 
cold  water  on  your  scheme,  yet  I  will  not  stand  for  such 
measures !  Eeptile  as  technically  I  am,  there  are  human 
toads  I  simply  won't  associate  with ! 


PRINCESS  MOSS-ROSE  151 


The  Chancellor. 


Oh,  very  well!  [He  closes  his  huge  volume  with  a 
bang.]  And  suppose  the  old  gossip  comes  uninvited  to 
the  feast,  what  then? 

The  Frog. 

Tell  her  to  meet  me  beside  the  fountain  by  moonlight, 
and  I'll  hold  her  hand  and  give  her  the  worst  cold  in  her 
head  she  ever  had,  so  that  she  won't  be  able  to  put  two 
and  two  words  together !  Is  it  for  nothing  I  am  Sir  Am- 
phibious Batrachian,  etcetera,  etcetera?  [He  slaps  his 
chest.] 

The  Queen. 

You  dear!  Oh,  what  a  birthday!  I'm  so  happy  I 
could  dance! 

The  King. 

So  could  I ! 

The  Frog. 

[Prancing  alout.]  Here  we  go  round  the  mulberry 
bush,  the  mulberry  bush,  the  mulberry  bush  I 

The  Court. 
Do  look  out  for  the  baby ! 

The  Frog. 

Put  H.  E.  H.  in  a  safe  place!  Here,  in  the  christen- 
ing-mug! [Assisted  hy  members  of  the  Court  he  lifts 
the  Nurse  with  the  Baby  into  the  mug.  The  Gardener 
at  this  moment  enters  with  a  huge  hunch  of  moss-roses.] 


152  FESTIVAL  PLAYS 


All. 


[Clapping  their  hands.] 
Oh,  moss-roses,  moss-roses,  for  the  Princess  Moss-Eose ! 
[Seizing  the  bouquet  The  Frog  tosses  it  into  the 
mug,  and  instantly  long  festoons  of  the  flowers 
stream  out  of  this,  as  from  a  fountain.  Laughing 
delightedly.  All  seize  these,  as  if  they  were  the  rib- 
bons of  a  Maypole.  Outside,  joy-bcUs  ring  and 
music  somids.  The  Butler  appears,  beating  on  a 
gong.  The  mug  with  the  Baby  seen  above  its  brim 
is  borne  aloft,  and  the  gay  procession  passes  on  as 
the  Curtain  falls.} 

THE  SECOND  EVENT 

The  Second  Event  takes  place  in  the  same  hall.  Every- 
body is  now  sixteen  years  older,  for  it  is  the  sixteenth 
anniversary  of  the  birth  of  Hie  Princess  Moss-Eose. 
The  christening  mug  stands  in  the  centre  of  the  floor 
and  in  it  grows  a  beautiful  moss-rose  bush.  The 
Hunting  Song  again  is  heard,  and  when  the  Cur- 
tain rises  we  see  the  King  ready  to  start  off  on  his 
day's  sport.  To  him  comes  the  Queen  somewhat  hur- 
riedly. 

The  Queen. 

My  dear,  surely  you're  not  going  liuntiug  to-day ! 

The  King. 

I  had  some  idea  of  doing  so,  my  love !     The  lions  are 
complaining  terribly  that  they  don't  get  enough  exercise ! 


PRINCESS  MOSS-ROSE  153 

The  Queen. 
But  have  you  forgotten  what  day  it  is? 

The  King. 

Surely  not  Sunday  again !  Now  it  isn't  sporty  of  Sun- 
day to  come  round  more  than  once  a  week !  It's  taking 
advantage  of  its  exalted  standing  and  the  respect  we 
owe  it ! 

The  Queen. 

[Laughing.]  Will  you  never  grow  up?  And  our 
daughter  sixteen  years  old  to-day ! 

The  King. 
Bless  my  soul,  I  had  forgotten ! 

Moss-RosE. 
[Enters  singing  happily.]     Good-morning,  father! 

The  King. 
Good-morning,  my  darling! 

Moss-Rose. 
Aren't  you  going  to  wish  me  many  happy — 

The  King. 

[Interrupting.]  Come,  wish  me  many  happy  returns 
of  the  day! 


154  FESTIVAL  PLAYS 


Moss-EosE. 

What,  wish  you  many  happy  returns  of  my  birthday  and 

mother's? 

The  King. 

Why  not?  Isn't  it  always  the  happiest  day  of  the  year 
to  me? 

Moss-EosE. 

[Mischievously.]  Thank  you  so  much  for  your  lovely 
present ! 

The  Queen. 
Yes,  indeed! 

The  King. 

Eh?     [Puzzled.] 

Moss-EosE. 

We've  been  through  your  pockets,  mother  and  I!  And, 
oh,  to  think  of  finding  a  fine  new  meerschaum  pipe,  and 
my  favourite  brand  of  tobacco !  [She  produces  the  arti- 
cles.] 

The  King. 

[Slightly  nettled  and  confused.]  Now,  really,  Moss- 
Eose.  .  .  . 

The  Queen. 

And  these  six  new  neckties  .  .  .  my  favourite  colours ! 
[She  produces  the  articles.] 


PRINCESS  MOSS-ROSE  165 

The  King. 

[Recovering  poise.]  The  pipe  was  for  my  prize  ele- 
phant. And  the  ties  were  to  be  competed  for  in  a  scratch 
i-ace — the  spotted  ones  for  the  leopards  and  the  striped 
ones  for  the  zebras! 

The  Queen  and  Moss-Rose. 

[Laughing.]  You  dear!  [They  hiss  the  King  and 
thrust  their  booty  into  his  pockets.] 

The  King. 

And  now  what's  the  programme  for  the  day's  festivities  ? 
A  ball  as  usual  to-night,  I  suppose ! 

The  Queen. 
[Hastily.]     No,  not  to-night !     Not  till  to-morrow ! 

Moss-EosE. 

[Pouting  slightly.]  Mother  is  so  mysterious  about  it! 
Why  should  our  celebration  be  put  off  till  to-morrow? 
Put-off  things  are  never  quite  so  nice! 

The  Queen. 

It  is  only  the  dance  that  is  postponed.  You  shall  have 
your  cake  as  usual!  See;  here  comes  the  cook  with  it 
now  I 


156  FESTIVAL  PLAYS 

[Enter  the  Cook  hearing  triumpJiantly  aloft  a  huge 
cake  decorated  with  candles,  unlighted.  He  is  fol- 
lowed respectfully  hy  a  Kitchen-boy  carrying  a 
lighted  taper.] 

The  Cook. 

With  the  compliments  of  the  Cook  to  Her  Eoyal  High- 
ness Princess  Moss-Rose!  [He  sets  the  cake  down  on  the 
table.]  Now,  Boy,  do  your  duty,  but  don't  drop  wax  all 
over  the  place! 

Moss-RosE, 

Thank-you,  dear  Cooky!     Oh,  what  a  beauty  it  is! 
[Enter  the  Lord  Chancellor  followed  hy  the  Gar- 
dener ivho  hears  a  watering-pot.     He  is  followed 
hy  a  Boy  who  carries  a  small  ladder.] 

The  Chancellor. 

Good-morning  to  your  Majesties,  and  to  your  Eoyal 
Highness ! 

King,  Queen  and  Princess. 

Good-morning,  my  Lord  High  Chancellor! 

The  Chancellor. 

My  congratulations  to  Your  Majesty  [to  the  Queen] 
and  to  your  Royal  Highness ! 

Queen  and  Princess. 
We  thank  you,  my  Lord  High  Chancellor! 


PRINCESS  MOSS-ROSE  157 

The  Gakdener. 

My  homage  to  Your  Majesties  and  to  Your  Eoyal  High- 
ness ! 

King,  Queen  and  Princess, 

"We  thank  you  kindly,  Court  Gardener! 

[The  Boy  sets  the  ladder  against  the  christening 
mug,  and  mounting  this  the  Gardener  waters  the 
moss-rose  bush  in  it.  Instantly  this  shoots  up  sev- 
eral feet  in  height,  broadening  increasingly.-  All 
exclaim  ivith  admiration.^ 

The  Gardener. 

Ah,  there's  nothing  like  it  in  the  history  of  floriculture ! 
And  this  the  wee  slip  of  a  plant  I  was  setting  out  the  day 
our  little  Princess  was  born ! 

The  Cook. 

[Calling  attention  to  the  calce.]  Sixteen,  and  one  for 
luck ! 

The  Gaedener. 

[Approaching  Moss-Rose  ivith  a  bunch  of  the  flowers 
that  he  has  plucked.]     Sixteen,  and  one  for  luck! 

Moss-Rose. 

How  good  you  all  are  to  me ! 

[The  Gardener  and  The  Cook  followed  by  their  at- 
tendants, go.] 


158  FESTIVAL  PLAYS 


The  Chancellor. 


Sixteen!  .  .  .  We  soon  shall  be  having  to  find  a  suit- 
able alliance  for  our  Princess ! 

The  King. 

Dear,  dear,  there  you  go  again !  I've  been  all  over  the 
map,  and  there's  nobod}^,  positively  nobody,  that  will  do ! 
They  are  all  so  ignorant;  they  only  speak  foreign  lan- 
guages !  What  do  I  want  with  a  son-in-law  who  can  only 
laugh  at  my  jokes  through  an  interpreter? 

The  Chancellor. 

None  the  less,  Sire,  we  cannot  have  our  Princess  remain 
a  sp  .  ,  .  er  .  .  .  unmarried ! 

Moss-EosE. 

[With  quick  curiosity.]  What  is  the  word  you  were 
going  to  say,  beginning  with  s-p? 

The  Chancellor. 

Ahem !  Pardon,  my  dear ;  I  was  not  going  to  say  any- 
thing of  the  sort!  There  is  no  word  applicable  to  the 
situation  beginning  with  s-p ! 

Moss-Eose. 

Oh,  but  there  is ;  a  word  that  has  been  blotted  out  of  all 
the  dictionaries  in  my  school-room ! 


PRINCESS  MOSS-ROSE  159 

The  King. 

[Hastily.]  By  special  Act  of  Parliament!  Royal  Pre- 
rogative, and  all  that,  you  know ! 

Moss-EosE. 

It  is  the  same  way  with  music;  some  kinds  of  songs  are 
blotted  out  for  Princesses,  it  seems!  There  was  the  pret- 
tiest song  I  came  upon.  It  sounded  buzz,  buzz,  buzz,  like 
the  turning  of  a  wheel !  But  my  teacher  said  that  I  must 
never,  never  sing  it !  Now  why  not,  I  wonder ! 
[The  Others  exchange  anxious  glances.] 

The  Queen. 

Everything  shall  be  explained  to  you  to-morrow!  Go 
to  your  room  now,  dear,  and  you  will  find  there  the  linen 
chest  we  have  been  preparing  for  your  dowry,  ready  for 
the  time  Prince  Charming  comes  to  claim  your  hand ! 

The  Governess. 

[Entering  with  a  fine  table-cloth  in  her  hand.]  Madam, 
I  brought  a  table-cloth  to  show  you  the  marking  ...  a 
moss-rose ! 

The  Queen. 

[Approving.]  That  is  right!  See,  daughter!  The 
finest  linen  ever  sp  .  .  .  manufactured ! 

Moss-RosE. 
How  is  linen-thread  sp-manuf actured  ? 


160  FESTIVAL  PLAYS 

All. 
[Hastily.]     It  isn't! 


Moss-RosE. 

[Persisting.]  Linen  is  woven  of  thread;  that  I  know. 
And  thread  is  made  of  flax,  and  flax  grows  in  the  garden; 
that  I  know !  But  how  is  flax  made  into  thread  ?  No  one 
ever  will  answer  me  that!  And  it  has  been  blotted  out 
of  the  encyclopedia ! 

[There  is  a  sliglit  pause.] 

The  King. 

Come,  come,  child;  trust  your  parents  to-day,  and  to- 
morrow I'll  sp  .  .  .  I'll  reel  you  a  long  yarn  about  it ! 

Moss-EosE. 

There  again !  Everyone  begins  a  word  with  s-p,  and 
then  stops  short  as  if  they  had  bumped  their  heads  or 
stubbed  their  toes  against  it! 

[Enter  The  Frog  in  a  hathrdbe  under  which  it  is 
seen  that  he  wears  a  hathing-suit.] 

The  Frog. 

Good-morning,  friends!  Congratulations  to  those  to 
whom  congratulations  are  due,  eh,  what? 

The  King. 
Morning,  old  man! 


PRINCESS  MOSS-ROSE  161 

The  Queen. 
[At  the  same  time.]     Thank  you,  dear  Sir  Amphibious! 

The  Chancellor. 
Good-morning,  Sir  Amphibious! 

Moss-EosE. 

Oh,  godfather,  where  are  you  going?  Not  to  your  pond 
again  ? 

The  Feog. 

Only  for  a  dip,  my  dear !     Truth  is  I'm  feeling  rather 

dry! 

The  Chancellor. 

Can't  I  ring  for  a  glass  of  water  for  you? 

The  Frog. 

My  dear  fellow !  Do  give  me  credit  for  some  command 
of  proper  language!  Even  reptiles  know  that  dry  refers 
to  the  outside,  while  for  the  inner  man  one  says  thirsty ! 

Moss-Kose. 
Oh,  stay  and  play  with  me ! 

The  Frog. 

When  Tve  had  my  dip !  Till  I've  had  my  dip  I'm  poor 
company;  my  head  positively  sp — [He  stops  short,  then 


162  FESTIVAL  PLAYS 

lamely   finishes]    aches!     Turns    round    and    round,   you 
know! 

Moss-EosE. 

Isn't  there  a  word  that  means  all  that;  turns  round  and 
round,  you  know !     Something  beginning  with  s-p  ? 

The  Frog. 

Not  in  Court  circles!  [There  is  a  slight  pause.]  Let 
me  go  now,  there's  a  love,  and  I'll  bring  you  something 
pretty  from  the  bottom  of  the  pond ! 

The  Govekness. 
Come,  dear,  and  see  your  linen  chest ! 

Moss-Eose. 

[Going  with  the  Governess.]  Even  my  godfather,  my 
pet  Froggy,  bites  his  tongue  off  sooner  than  finish  the  mys- 
terious word  beginning  with  s-p !  [She  goes  with  the 
Governess.  Those  who  remain  looTc  at  one  another  mean- 
ingly.] 

The  King. 

I  wonder  if  we  hadn't  better  have  told  the  child  all 
along ! 

The  Frog. 

That  was  my  advice,  as  you  know! 


PRINCESS  MOSS-ROSE  163 

The  Queen. 

Perhaps  it  would  have  been  wiser,  but  how  can  one  in- 
form a  beloved  child  of  a  threatened  danger? 

The  Chancellor. 

[Turning  over  the  volumes.]  Most  perplexing !  A  sit- 
uation absolutely  without  precedent ! 

The  King. 

Well,  af!er  all,  it  is  only  getting  through  this  day,  and 
then  we  can  all  breathe  freely  forever  after !  Suppose 
we  summon  the  Court  and  arrange  what  measures  must  be 
taken  for  the  safety  of  the  Princess!     Eh,  my  Lord? 

The  Chancellor. 

That  seems  quite  lucid,  Sire ;  in  fact,  almost  sensible ! 
...  I  mean,  er  .  .  .  [He  rings  and  the  Butler  appears 
immediately.]  Summon  the  ladies  and  gentlemen  of  the 
Court!  [The  Butler  disappears.  There  is  a  bugle-call 
outside.] 

The  Queen. 

It's  too  ridiculous,  but  ever  since  I  wakened  this  morn- 
ing I  have  seemed  to  hear  a  buzz-buzz-buzz,  whir-r-r, 
humm-m-m,  just  as  if  there  were  a  sp — pne  of  the  things 
concealed  in  the  room! 


164  FESTIVAL  PLAYS 

The  Others. 

So  have  I !  [The  faint,  very  faint  sound  of  a  spinning- 
wheel  is  heard  and  a  soft  voice  crooning  the  Spin-wheel 
Song.     All  start.]     There  it  is  now ! 

The  Chancellor. 

[Recovering  himself.]  Imagination!  Why,  there  isn't 
one  in  existence  in  the  kingdom! 

[The  Lords  and  Ladies  enter,  and  tal-e  ceremonial 
positions,  bowing  and  curtseying  to  their  Majes- 
ties.  The  King  and  Queen  sit,  motioning  all  to 
do  liJcewise.     All  obey.     The  King  then  begins.] 

The  King. 

My  Lords  and  Ladies  .  .  .  This,  as  you  know,  is  the 
sixteenth  anniversary  of  the  birth  of  our  beloved  daugh- 
ter, the  Princess  Moss-Eose.  Eor  the  benefit  of  such  of 
you  as  were  not  here  when  Heaven  sent  her  to  us  we  will 
rehearse  an  incident  that  then  took  place.  To  her  chris- 
tening feast  as  godmothers  were  bidden  all  the  Good 
Fairies  and  Wise  Women  in  our  kingdom — 

The  Frog. 

— to  co-operate  with  me  as  godfather!  I  held  the  child 
at  the  font! 

The  King.     . 
There  were  twelve  of  these  ladies. 


PRINCESS  MOSS-ROSE  165 

The  Chancellor. 

Thirteen,  Sire! 

The  King. 

True,  but  thirteen  is  an  unlucky  number !  That  is  why 
I  suppressed  one ! 

The  Queen. 

And  the  thirteenth  wasn't  a  nice  person  at  all !  Not  at 
all !     Besides  we  had  only  a  dozen  extra  spoons  and  forks ! 

The  King. 

But  all  the  same,  this  Dame  Envy-Hatred-Malicc-and- 
All-Uncharitablencss  got  wind  of  the  affair  and  came  un- 
invited ! 

The  Chancellor. 

Oh,  if  you  had  only  let  me  manage  it ! 

The  King. 

Well — she  came! 

The  Queen. 

She  wasn't  at  all  nice !  And  I  didn't  like  the  way  she 
was  dressed  one  bit !     Not  one  bit ! 

The  King. 

Our  valued  Sir  Amphibious  presented  the  mug — [Indi- 
cates the  mug.]     Sterling  silver  and  richly  chased! 


166  FESTIVAL  PLAYS 

The  Frog. 

Aye,  indeed !  I  chased  it  round  and  round  the  pond 
when  it  was  first  dropped  in,  for  at  least  three  centuries! 

The  King. 

The  twelve  godmothers  bestowed  good  wishes  on  our 
child— 

The  Chancellor. 

[Referring  to  a  volume.]  Entered  over  their  own  sig- 
natures in  the  guest-book.  The  kindest  wishes,  though 
expressed  in  verse  of  an  impromptu  and  inferior  cast! 

The  King. 

But  the  uninvited  and  unwelcome  one  revenged  herself 
by  putting  on  our  child  a  curse!  [All  echo,  "A  curse!"] 
Eead  it,  my  Lord  Chancellor ! 

The  Chancellor. 

{Referring  to  volume.]  That  on  the  sixteenth  anni- 
versary of  her  birth  the  Princess  Moss-Rose  should  prick 
her  finger  with  the  spindle  of  a  spinning-wheel,  and  die 
of  the  wound.  [All,  even  those  who  are  familiar  with  the 
story,  exclaim  with  horror.] 

The  King. 

No  wonder  you  shudder !  No  wonder  tongue  and  pen 
alike  recoil  from  chronicling  the  incident!     However,  our 


PRINCESS  MOSS-ROSE  167 

dear   Sir   Amphibious   exercised  bis  prerogative,   in  also 
making  for  our  child  a  wish. 

The  Queen. 
So  sweet  of  him  when  he  had  already  given  the  mug ! 

The  Frog. 

Oh,  don't  mention  it!  What  godfather  under  like  cir- 
cumstances would  not  do  the  same?  I  could  not  unwish 
the  old  hag's  wish,  but  at  least  it  was  within  my  humble 
powers  to  modify  it ! 

The  Chancellor. 

[Referring  to  the  volume.]  Sir  Amphibious  fortunately 
was  able  to  cross  out  the  unpleasant  word  die  and  substi- 
tute for  it,  sleep  for  a  term  not  exceeding  one  hundred 
years ! 

The  Frog. 

That's  it!  A  mere  bagatelle,  one  hundred  years,  when 
measured  up  with  eternity,  eh,  what ! 

The  King. 

But,  even  so,  do  we  want  the  light  of  our  eyes  and  sun- 
shine of  our  lives  suspended  for  a  century ! 

All. 

[With  emphasis.]     No! 


168  FESTIVAL  PLAYS 


The  Queen. 


Even  suppose  that  the  King  and  I  were  to  survive  it,  it 
would  be  most  awkward  to  introduce  to  society  a  debutante 
Princess  of  a  hundred  and  sixteen  years  of  age ! 

The  Chancellor. 

[Shaking  his  head  mournfully.]  The  only  suitable  al- 
liance would  be  found  in  a  Home  for  Aged  Princes !  It 
is  true  that  some  of  the  abdicated  ones  are  in  an  excellent 
state  of  preservation,  but  it  isn't  the  same  thing ! 

All. 

Not  at  all  the  same  thing ! 

The  King. 

To  prevent  these  little  contre-tempses,  as  the  French 
call  them,  I  forthwith  issued  a  proclamation — 

The  Chancellor. 

[Referring  to  volume.]  All  spinning-wheels  to  be  ban- 
ished from  the  kingdom — 

The  Queen. 

It  has  made  the  price  of  household  linen  dreadfully 
high,  but  what  else  could  we  do? 


PRINCESS  MOSS-ROSE  169 

The  Chancellor. 

[Continuing,  from  volume.]  The  word  spin  with  all  its 
variants  to  be  blotted  from  dictionaries,  dropped  from  con- 
versation. To  compose  ,or  sing  a  spinning-wheel  song  a 
capital  offence.  All  spinsters  to  choose  between  death  or 
matrimony ! 

The  Queen. 

And  all  of  the  self-sacrificing  dears  chose  matrimony! 
So  loyal  of  them ! 

The  King. 

Now  while  we  flatter  ourselves  that  our  Anti-spindle 
campaign  has  been  an  unqualified  success,  yet  there  is  this 
day  with  its  fatal  possibilities  to  be  safely  passed  through ! 
The  question  before  us  is,  how  best  to  guard  the  Princess 
from  the  one  chance  in  a  million-billion  that  a  spindle  yet 
exists ! 

The  Frog. 

Let  her  spend  it  with  me  at  the  bottom  of  the  pond! 
[All  murmur  appreciatively.] 

The  Queen. 
How  dear  of  you!     But  she  isn't  used  to  the  damp! 

The  King. 

Besides,  someone  might  have  thrown  a  spinning-wheel, 
or  just  the  spindle,  into  it,  you  know! 


170  FESTIVAL  PLAYS 

All. 
[Considering.]     That's  true! 

The  Chancellor. 

So  long  as  there's  no  precedent  to  go  by,  suppose  we 
ourselves  adopt  an  original  measure.  Suppose  we  take  the 
Princess  into  our  confidence  so  that  she  can  herself  be  on 
her  guard!  [This  gives  rise  to  murmurs,  some  approving, 
others  dissenting.] 

The  King. 

It's  rather  radical,  not  to  say  subversive,  to  teach  young 
people  anything  that  isn't  perfectly  pleasant,  but — isn't 
it  best  to  let  them  find  put  for  themselves  that  roses  have 
thorns  ? 

The  Chancellor. 

Hardly,  Sire,  considering  the  price  of  the  prick ! 

The  Frog. 
That's  what  I  have  always  said! 

The  Queen. 

Yes,  but  then  you  two  haven't  the  feelings  of  a  mother ! 
If  you  think  there  are  no  pricks,  why,  then  there  are  none ! 
...  Ouch!     What  was  that? 

The  King. 

Oh,  nothing,  my  love!  I  only  stuck  a  pin  into  your 
arm  to  test  your  theory ! 


PRINCESS  MOSS-ROSE  171 

The  Queen. 

But  it  isn't  a  fair  test  unless  you  tell  that  you  are  go- 
ing to  do  it,  so  that  I  can  make  up  my  mind  not  to  feel  it ! 

The  King. 

I  see!     Well,  but  to  come  back  to  the  question,  who  is 
to  tell  our  child  of  the  peril  in  which  she  stands  ? 

The  Queen. 
Why,  you,  of  course !     You  are  head  of  the  family ! 

The  King. 

Only  when  there's  something  unpleasant  to  be  done! 
When  it's  a  matter  of  buying  new  head-gear,  Paris  hats, 
and  all  that,  who  is  head  of  the  family  then,  I'd  like  to 
know! — However,  I  suppose  I  had  better  take  the  child 
into  the  library,  and  say:  "My  child,  I  do  not  wish  to 
alarm  you,  but — "  [All  murmur,  protesting  against 
this.]  Oh,  very  well,  then  !  Someone  else  will  have  to 
do  it! 

The  Chancellor. 

Couldn't  it  be  led  up  to  diplomatically.  Sire?  Use 
tact!  As  thus:  "How  pretty  you  look  to-day,  my  little 
daughter!  Which  reminds  me;  speaking  of  the  uncer- 
tainty of  life — "  [Again  All  protest.]  Oh,  as  you 
please !     I  only  threw  out  the  suggestion ! 


172  FESTIVAL  PLAYS 

The  Frog. 

Why  not  be  playful?  Introduce  death  jocosely  into 
the  conversation!  Begin  with  dead  letters  and  go  on  to 
the  dead  languages !  Ask  her  how  long  a  dead-weight  is ! 
And  if  a  dead-lock  grows  on  a  dead-head!  [Again  All 
protest  strongly.]     Oh,  very  well!     Do  it  your  own  way! 

The  King. 

Why  can't  the  child's  governess  teach  her  all  about  it? 
It  seems  to  me  it  is  a  matter  of  education,  entirely! 

The  Governess. 

Pardon,  Sire.  Questions  concerning  life  and  death  were 
strictly  barred  from  the  curriculum  on  which  my  diploma 
was  obtained! 

The  King. 
Well,  something  has  to  be  done;  that's  clear! 

All. 

Yes,  that's  clear! 

The  King. 
But  what?     And  how?     That's  the  question! 

All. 

Yes,  that's  the  question! 


PRINCESS  MOSS-ROSE  173 

The  Queen. 

I  have  an  idea!  Let  us  all  tell  her,  together,  in  con- 
cert! [All  assent]  Let  us  all  begin,  "My  dear  little 
Moss-Eose — Our  dear  little  Moss-Eose — " 

All. 
[Clap  hands.]     Oh,  excellent! 

The  King. 
Yes!     Well,  and  then—? 

The  Queen. 

Yes ;  what  then  ? 

All. 

Yes ;  what  then  ? 

The  Nuese. 

Madam,  if  I  may  make  so  bold — 

The  Queen. 
Well,  nurse  ?     Wliat  have  you  to  suggest  ? 

The  Xurse, 

The  Princess  has  always  been  keen  about  fairy-stories! 
Why  not  tell  it  to  her,  each  contributing  a  bit,  as  if  it 
were  a  fairy-story  ?    Begin,  Once  upon  a  time ! 
[All  exclaim,  interested.] 


174  FESTIVAL  PLAYS 

The  Queen. 

But,  my  dear  soul;  this  is  true!  How  can  we  pretend 
about  it? 

[All  agree  to  this  view  of  the  matter.] 

The  Nurse. 

Madam,  it's  by  pretending  that  truth  is  a  fairy-story  we 
make  children  know  it's  ti-ue ! 

The  Queen. 

Nurse,  you're  a  darling,  but  so  old-fashioned !  Fairy- 
stories  don't  happen  nowadays,  do  they,  Sir  Amphibious? 

The  Frog. 

My  old  grandmother.  Mother  Goose,  believes  in  them ! 
But  then,  she's  a  Mother  Goose! 

The  Gardener. 

Fairy-stories  happen  in  the  greenhouse,  and  miracles  in 
the  garden  all  the  time!  I  help  'em  along!  Why,  look 
at  that  bonny  moss-rose  bush !  Sixteen  years  from  to-day 
it  was  but  a  wee  slip,  as  tiny  in  its  way  as  the  Princess  in 
hers! 

The  King. 

But,  my  dear  fellow,  that's  only  nature,  and  we  are 
talking  about  life  and  death,  which  are  social  functions, 
eh,  my  Lord  High  Chancellor? 


PRINCESS  MOSS-ROSE  175 


The  Chancellor. 


[Corroborating  this.]     Social  functions.  Sire!     Greatly 
copied  by  the  lower  classes ! 
[There  is  a  pause.] 

The  King. 

Well,  what  are  we  to  do?  [Moss-Eose  is  heard,  sing- 
ing, approaching.]  Here  comes  the  child  now!  Why 
didn't  we  prepare  for  this  long  ago  ? 

The  Gardener. 
Sixteen  years  ago,  when  I  planted  that  wee  slip ! 

The  King. 

Something  has  to  be  done!  Nurse's  suggestion— it's 
the  simplest!  We'll  tell  her  her  own  story  as  if  it  were 
a  fairy-story!  Eemember,  all  must  help!  All  must  be- 
gin, Once  upon  a  time!  [Moss-Eose  enters,  laden  with 
presents.]  Ah,  my  dear  child!  Come  here!  We're  go- 
ing to  tell  you  something — a  fairy-story,  eh,  my  Lords  and 
Ladies  ? 

All. 

Yes,  indeed !     Once  upon  a  time — 

Moss-Eose. 

Oh,  you  darlings!  But,  wait!  Wait  till  I  have 
thanked  you  all  for  the  lovely  presents  you  have  given  me ! 


176  FESTIVAL  PLAYS 

[She  lays  them  heaped  on  the  tabic.']  They're  all  of  them 
just  exactly  what  I  wanted !  Just  as  if  they  came  out  of 
a  fairy-book!  So,  now,  then,  for  j^our  story!  [She  seats 
herself  on  a  step  of  the  throne.] 

The  Kik'g  and  Queen. 
My  clear  little  Moss-Eose — 

All. 

Our  dear  little  Moss-Eose — 

Moss-EosE. 

Oh,  wait!  My  candles!  [She  runs  toward  the  cahe.] 
Before  they  burn  down  you  must  all  blow  them  out  to- 
gether! But  first  each  must  make  me  a  wish!  Now, 
wish,  in  silence,  then  when  I  count  three,  blow!  Blow 
hard,  all  together !  Eeady !  One,  two,  three — Blow  I 
[All  blow,  and  the  candle-flames  are  extinguished.] 
Good !  Now  I  am  going  to  have  luck  till  my  next  birth- 
day! [She  returns  to  her  place  on  the  throne-step.] 
Now,  then,  for  the  fairy-story!     Once  upon  a  time — 

All. 
Once  upon  a  time — 

Moss-Eose. 

[Starts  up.]  Wait!  Hush!  Oh,  listen!  Listen!  [All 
show  alarm  at  her  manner.] 


PRINCESS  MOSS-ROSE  177 

The  Queen. 
Moss-Rose — my  child — what  is  it ! 

Moss-EosE. 

[As  if  drawn  slowly  nearer  the  enchanted  mug.]  Oh, 
wonderful !  So  soft — but  always  growing  louder,  coming 
nearer — like  the  turning  of  a  wheel !  [All  exclaim,  in 
alarm.]  Oh,  it  sounds  like — Oh,  it  is  that  forbidden  word 
beginning  with  s-p ! 

[Again  All  cry  out  in  wildest  alarm.  Moss-Rose, 
however,  begins  to  dance,  and  grow  excited.  Mean- 
while the  sound  of  the  Wheel  is  heard  whirring, 
and  a  faint  voice  croons  the  Spin-Wheel's  Song.] 

The  King. 

[Trying  to  catch  Moss-Eose.]  My  precious  one,  come 
to  your  father ! 

The  Queen. 

[Also  trying  to  catch  her.]  My  baby,  come  hide  your 
head  in  mother's  lap  where  you  won't  hear  it ! 

Moss-Eose. 

[Eluding  capture.]  Oh,  but  I  want  to  hear  it!  It  is 
beautiful,  but  terrible !  Terrible,  but  beautiful !  It  is 
drawing  me  away  from  you  all !  Oh,  now  I  begin  to  un- 
derstand !  Strange  voices  are  telling  me  the  word  you  all 
bump  your  heads  and  stub  your  poor  toes  against! — Con- 
sider the  lilies  of  the  field,  How  they  grow!     That's  what 


178  FESTIVAL  PLAYS 

the  archbishop  preached  about.  They  toil  not,  he  said, 
neither  do  they  sp — Then  he  broke  off,  just  as  everybody 
does,  as  if  a  thread  were  snapped  when  anyone  said  some- 
thing beginning  with  s-p! 

The  Chancellor. 

Your  Royal  Highness — my  precious  Princess — Listen! 
I'll  explain !     Oh,  listen  to  your  old  friend ! 

Moss-EosE. 

I'd  like  to  please  you,  my  dear  Lord,  but — buzz,  whir — 
sp-p— 

[Everyone  shrieks,  preventing  her  saying  the  luord.] 

The  Frog. 

[Seizing  her  hand.]  Come,  my  darling  goddaughter — 
to  the  pond — the  pond ! 

Moss-RosE. 

Oh,  but  my  dear,  dear  Sir  Amphibious,  I  can't !  Don't 
you  hear  it  calling  me?  Buzz- whir — telling  me  it  is  the 
appointed  day!     [Again  All  cry  out.] 

The  Cook. 

[Followed  by  his  assistants  rushes  in,  agitated,  brandish- 
ing a  soup-ladle.]     Oh,  Sire,  Madam — in  the  kitchen — the 
strangest  noise — There  it  is  now !     Buzz,  whir,  sp — 
[Again  All  cry  out.] 


PRINCESS  MOSS-ROSE  179 


Moss-RosE. 


[In  an  ecstasy.]  Spin!  That's  what  it  says!  Spin- 
(Spin-Spin ! 

[All  shriek  with  horror.     Confusion  prevails.] 

The  King. 

[In  wildest  alarm.]  Hunt  it!  Kill  it!  Loose  the 
dogs !     Turn  the  hose  upon  it ! 

All. 

[Bushing  about  wildly.]  Hunt  it!  Kill  it!  Destroy 
the  spinning-wheel !  Loose  the  dogs !  Turn  the  hose  on 
it!  Banish  it!  Behead  it!  Death  to  the  spinning- 
wheel  ! 

[Brandishing  whatever  comes  to  hand  as  weapon  All 
1-ush  out  in  different  directions,  seeTcing  the  enemy. 
Meanwhile  the  buzzing  sound  seems  to  pervade  the 
place,  as  if  myriad  spinning-wheels  were  at  work. 
Moss-EosE,  who  alone  remains,  dances  in  ecstasy. 
Rising  from  her  christening  mug  appear  the  Three 
Fates,  known  to  the  ancients  as  Ateopos,  Clotho 
and  Lachesis  in  their  traditional  attitudes.  They 
are  singing  as  they  work.] 

THE  SPIN-WHEEL  SONG 

Hear  the  merry  spin- wheel's  song: 
Wake !     Day's  begun  ! 
Thread  comes  short  aid  thread  comes  long, 
Spin,  spinning,  spun ! 


180  FESTIVAL  PLAYS 

Baby  wakes  and  crows  with  glee. 
Spin-wheel  sings  and  so  sings  she: 

Mm-m-m  !     Spin-wheel  sings  M-m  ! 

See  the  King  ride  forth  at  noon, 
Heralds  before. 

Life  and  death  are  in  his  boon, 
Sweet  peace  and  war. 
Baby  laughs  and  claps  her  hands'; 
She  knows  what  the  King  commands. 
Br-r-r !     King  commands  Br ! 

God's  own  angels  from  aloft 
Down  white  moon's  beam 
Gently  slide  and  whisper  soft 
In  baby's  dream. 
Baby  smiles,  as  well  she  ma}^, 
Por  she  hears  the  angels  say, 

Hush!     Angels  say  Hush-sh! 

[During  this  Moss-Eose  looJcs  up  and  seeing  the 
Three  Weird  Sisters  dances  and  claps  her  hands 
in  an  ecstasy  of  glee,  joining  in  the  chorus  of  the 
song.  At  one  point,  noticing  the  spindle,  she  holds 
up  her  hands  for  this  entreatingly,  on  ivhich  tlie 
Fate  holding  it,  lowers  it  to  her  hg  its  thread. 
Moss-Kose  delightedly  dances  about,  playing  with 
it,  its  thread  still  retained  by  the  Fate.  Suddenly 
the  maiden  prides  her  finger,  and  stops  in  her 
dance.  She  staggers  slightly,  as  if  dizzy,  loohs  at 
her  finger,  sucks  this,  and  lauglis,  as  if  it  were  hut 


PRINCESS  MOSS-ROSE  181 

a  trifling  matter.  Then  she  passes  her  hand  over 
her  brow,  as  if  dazed,  heconies  more  and  more 
sleepy,  and  finally  falls  on  a  couch  at  the  foot  of 
the  mug  in  enchanted  slumber.  The  King,  Queen 
and  all  the  Court  return,  breathless  with  their 
quest.  The  Fates  disappear  as  they  came,  but  the 
spindle  with  its  attaching  thread  remains  in  ike 
young  girl's  hand.'] 

The  King. 
Strange,  it's  nowhere  to  be  found! 

The  Queen. 
Nowhere !     We  must  just  have  thought  there  was  one ! 

The  Chancellor. 
High  and  low — nowhere  ! 

The  Frog. 
By  land  or  water — nowhere ! 

All. 

Nowhere ! 

The  King. 

It  is  all  right,  Moss-Eose !     Where  are  you,  child  ? 

The  Queen. 
She's    hiding,    frightened !     Moss-Eose !     There's    noth- 
ing to  be  afraid  of,  darling !     Where  can  the  child  be  ? 


182  FESTIVAL  PLAYS 

All. 

[Searching.]     Moss-Eose !     Princess  Moss-Eose! 

The  King. 

Search  the  forest !     Drag  the  pond ! 

The  Court. 
Aye,  search  the  forest,  drag  the  pond! 

The  Frog. 

You  look  to  the  forest;  leave  the  pond  to  me!  [While 
about  to  run  out  he  sees  Moss-Eose  and  utters  a  wild  cry.] 
Ah-h ! 

All. 

What  is  it?  [They  run  to  the  spot,  and  seeing  her,  also 
cry  out.] 

The  King. 

My  child,  my  little  daughter,  my  Moss-Eose! 

The  Queen. 
Moss-Eose !     Oh,  my  baby ! 

The  King. 
But  however  did  it  happen  ? 


PRINCESS  MOSS-ROSE  183 

The  Chancellor. 

[Lifting  the  spindle.]  See!  See!  A  spindle!  [All 
exclaim.] 

The  King. 

But  how,  where,  why  .  .  .  WTiere  did  it  come  from? 

The  Chancellor. 

Attached  to  a  thread  that  reaches  .  .  .  reaches  .  .  . 
[Growing  sleepy.] 

The  Frog. 

Clear  to  the  centre  of  the  earth  ,  .  .  and  the  waters  un- 
der the  earth!     [Yawning.] 

The  Chancellor. 

[Dropping  the  spindle.]  No  precedent  ...  I  don't  re- 
call any  precedent!  [Yawning,  he  staggers  over  to  the 
statute  hools  and  tries  to  turn  over  the  leaves  of  these.] 

The  King. 

[Chafing  a  hand  of  the  sleeping  girl.]  But,  my  child — 
surely  she  is  not  dead?     [All  echo,  "Not  dead?"] 

The  Queen. 
[Kissing  Moss-Eose.]     IN'o,  no!     Only  sleeping! 

All. 
Ah,  only  sleeping! 


184  FESTIVAL  PLAYS 


The  Chancellor, 


Term  not  exceeding  one  hundred  years — [Sleepily.] 
Kind  courtesy  of  Sir  Amphid — Amphid — pliib — phib — 
pliib — ib — ib — 

The  Frog. 

Just  a  triflng  matter  of  a  century! 

The  Queen. 

So  kind  of  him  when  already — given — mug!  [Sleep- 
ily.] Good-night,  my  darling,  for  one  hundred  years ! 
[Again  Msses  Moss-Eose  and  staggers  to  throne,  falls  on 
this,  in  sound  slumber.] 

The  King. 

[Following  the  Queen's  example.]  Good-night,  daugh- 
ter— good-night,  everybody — one  hundred — 

All. 

Good-night — everybody — one  hundred — [Falling  asleep.] 

The  Frog. 

You  see,  moral  is,  no  escaping  Fate!  Fate!  [Yawns.] 
Oh,  I  am  so  dry!     Can't  you  spray  nie?     [To  the  Gak- 

DENER.] 

The  Gardener. 

[To  his  assistants  who  hold  garden  hose  and  watering- 
pot.]     Don't  you  hear?     Let  spray! 


PRINCESS  MOSS-ROSE  185 

The  Frog. 

Aye,   let   spray !     Always   spray   before   going   to   bed ! 
'specially  one  hundred  years ! 
[Drops  off  to  sleep.l 

The  Gaedener. 

Catching  hold  of  a  branch  of  the  ivonderful  moss-rose 
bush.]     It's  the  finest  moss-rose  bush  in  all  the  w.orld! — 
Little    slip — this    size — sixteen   years — Just    think ! — One 
hundred  years — whole  forest — moss  roses! 
[Drops  off  to  sleep.] 

The  Cook. 

[Waking  slightly.]  Left  roast  on  spit — bread  in  oven 
— Slightly  overdone — one  hundred  years  ! 

The  Butler. 

[Very  drowsy,  talcing  an  alarm  cloch  from  his  poclcet, 
and  trying  to  set  it.]  Those  lazy  footmen — Set  alarm — 
wake  promptly — one  hundred  years ! 

The  Governess. 

[Almost  asleep.]  Have  to  go  to  work — learn  new  set  of 
dates — important  events — one  hundred  years ! 

The  Queen. 

[WaMng  slightly.]  How  the  fashions  will  have 
changed — one  hundred  years  ! — New  clothes — Shall  have 


186  FESTIVAL  PLAYS 

to  order — entire  new  wardrobe  !     From  Paris — one  hun- 
dred— new  hats ! 

The  King. 

[Slightly  waking.]  No,  no !  Same  old  styles — come 
back — into  fashion  again — every  hundred  years !  [He  set- 
tles himself  comfortably,  and  is  about  to  doze  again  when 
some  sound  without  arrests  his  attention.]     Hark!     Hark! 

All. 
[Slightly  roused.]     Hark,  hark,  the  lark! 

The  King. 

Aye,  the  lark,  and  the  hawk;  bird  of  song  and  bird  of 
prey  alike;  the  lion  and  the  lamb — all,  all  falling  fast 
asleep!  Hear  old  lion  snore!  Sleep  one  hundred  years! 
[He  drops  into  slumber  again.] 

The  Frog. 
Oh,  I  am  so  dry !     I  am  so  dry ! 

All. 
Do  keep  still — not  wake — everybody — one  hundred — 

The  Feoq. 

But  I  am  so  dry!  [A  Gardener's  Boy  sprays  him.] 
That's  better!  Oh,  I  was  so  dry !  I  was  so  dry!  [Again 
All  murmur.]  All  very  well  for  landlubbers,  but  first 
time — I  ever  went  without  bath — one  hundred  years ! 


PRINCESS  MOSS-ROSE  187 

[There  is  a  slight  somnolent  pause,  then  softly, 
faintly  the  whir  of  the  wheels  of  Fate  and  the 
Spin-wheel  Soxg  rise  from  the  enchanted  mug; 
meanwhile  roses  bubble  over  its  sides,  their  long 
trailing  sprays  falling  lil-e  a  veil  over  the  sleeping 
Princess.] 

The  Gaedener. 

[Catching  a  handful  of  sprays,  crosses  the  hall,  these 
lengthening  in  his  progress,  as  if  by  miraculous  growth 
from  their  root  in  the  enchanted  mug.]  Little  slip — 
whole  forest — one  hundred  years!  [Still  holding  the  ends 
of  the  trailing  sprays  he  falls  down,  asleep.'] 

The  King  and  Queen. 

[In  their  sleep.]  Good-night,  Moss-Eose!  Good-night, 
everybod}^  one  hundred  years ! 

All. 

[In  their  sleep.]  Good-night — everybody — one  hundred 
years ! 

[The  Curtains  noiv  shut  out  the  scene  from  our  view, 
but  if  by  any  chance  these  are  lifted  again  we  see 
roses,  alivays  moss-roses,  fountaining  from  the  mug 
over  the  assemblage  in  their  enchanted  sleep.] 

THE  THIED  EVENT 

[The  Curtains  lifted,  now  disclose  the  same  scene,  but 
with  the  Gardener's  prophecy  evidently  fulfilled,  for 
we  seem  to  be  on  the  outsHrts  of  a  dense  forest  of 


188  FESTIVAL  PLAYS 

moss-roses.  As  we  gaze  on  this,  wondering  what  ever 
will  come  of  it,  ice  Jicar  two  voices,  one  whiclu  might 
properly  belong,  and  proves  so  to  do,  to  a  charming 
YoDNG  Prixce,  tuh.ile  the  other  is  that  of  his  Tutor.] 

The  Prince. 

This  way!  Wliat  ho,  Mentor!  This  way!  [He  blows 
a  blast  on  his  horn.] 

Mentor. 

"V\niat  ho !  Oh,  I'm  nearly  smothered !  And  I'm  al- 
most pricked  to  death!  Where,  in  the  name  of  forestry, 
are  you? 

The  Prince. 

Here  !  This  way !  ...  To  the  right !  So  !  Here  we 
are! 

[They  come  from  opposite  directions,  and  meet  on  the 
outshirts  of  the  thicket  confronting  ns,  and  we  now 
see  that  Prince  Charming  fidly  justifies  his  name, 
ivhile  Mentor  is  no  doubt  a  tutor  with  excellent 
references.  Each  carries  or  drags  a  number  of  tro- 
phies in  the  way  of  arms  and  legs  and  other  por- 
tions of  the  anatomy,  or  some  piece  of  the  outfit,  of 
other  Princes.     They  pause  to  rest.] 

Mentor. 

What  a  wild-goose  chase!  And  so  far,  not  even  the 
ghost  of  a  wild-goose !  Only  this  human  bric-a-brac ! 
[Throws  down  his  burden.] 


PRINCESS  MOSS-ROSE  189 

The  Prince. 

Still,  as  an  antiquarian,  you  ought  not  to  grumble ! 
[Throwing  down  his  burden,  aha.  Both  sit.]  Did  you 
ever  see  such  a  collection? 

Mentor. 

[Picking  up  speci^nens.]  Leg  of  the  time  of  your  great 
grandfather !  Eight  arm  dating,  let  me  see,  fifty  years 
back !     Torso  ninety-nine  years  old ! 

The  Prince. 

And  we  can't  construct  one  symmetrical  skeleton  out 
of  them !  None  of  the  rights  match  the  lefts !  Whatever 
shall  we  do  with  them?  As  trophies  they  are  interesting, 
yet  one  wouldn't  want  them  on  the  walls  of  the  dining- 
room! 

Mentor. 

As  soon  as  you  ascend  the  throne  you  must  build  a  new 
wing  to  the  Eoyal  Museum  for  them.  Ouch !  Another 
thorn  in  my  foot! 

The  Prince. 

Oh,  I'm  getting  used  to  thorns!  As  for  these  fellows, 
look  at  them !  Everypne  of  them  a  Imman  pin-cushion ! 
Well,  they  certainly  made  a  valiant  battle  for  the  rose  I 

Mentor. 

The  rose,  the  rose,  always  the  rose!  Haven't  you  got 
that  old  tale  out  of  your  mind  yet? 


190  FESTIVAL  PLAYS 


The  Prince. 


How  can  I,  when  I  was  brought  up  on  it?  It  is  true, 
nurses  in  long  succession  were  dismissed  for  attempting 
to  tell  me  fairy-tales,  but  these  things  will  out!  There 
was  a  jackdaw  who  used  to  sit  on  the  barn  door  and  talk 
to  himself  about  it,  hour  after  hour.  Then  in  the  pond 
were  two  venerable  frogs  who  told  me  that  in  their  tad- 
pole youth  they  had  been  to  the  palace  itself  to  carry  a 
mug  as  christening  present  for  the  Eose! 

Mentor. 

Fudge !     Have  you  any  sandwiches  left  ? 

[The  Prince  offers  him  the  lunch-box  that  he  car- 
ries, also  a  flask,  then  proceeds  with  his  discourse.] 

The  Prince, 

Also  there  was  a  robin  whose  grandmother  had  escaped 
from  the  forest  just  before  the  slumber-spell  fell  on  it ! 


Mentor. 
[With  his  mouth  full]     Fudge!     Stuff  and  nonsense! 

The  Prince. 

And  in  my  nursery  there  is  a  tiger-skin  rug,  you  remem- 
ber!    Well,  one  day  it  whispered  to  me — 


PRINCESS  MOSS-ROSE  191 


Mentor. 


Gammon  and  spinach!  I  beg  your  pardon,  my  dear 
Prince,  but  really,  when  you  talk  this  way — Why,  the 
thesis  on  which  I  took  my  doctor's  degree  is  a  refutation 
of  the  tissue  of  lies — very  poetic  ones,  I  grant  you — which 
form  the  myth  of  the  Sleeping  Beauty!  [He  takes  a 
drinh.]  There's  a  presentation  copy  in  the  Eoyal  library! 
The  trouble  is  that  the  poetic  myth  is  a  best  seller,  while 
the  leaves  of  the  presentation-copy-refutation  remain  un- 
cut I 

The  Prixce. 

But,  my  dear  Mentor,  how  do  you  account  for  the  dis- 
appearance of  King  Johannes  Johann  Ivor  Ivan  Ian 
Giovanni  Juan  Jean  John?  The  sudden  mysterious 
disappearance  with  all  his  court  that  caused  my  royal  an- 
cestors to  annex  the  kingdom  to  their  own!  It's  an  his- 
torical fact,  you  know ! 

Mentor. 

Oh,  probably  good  King  Jack  got  into  some  slight 
trouble — violated  the  game  laws,  or  something,  so  abdi- 
cated and  went  quietly  abroad,  leaving  the  Court  Chroni- 
cler to  invent  some  pretty  tale  to  hush  up  the  scandal ! 


The  Prince. 

But  this  forest  that  we  have  hewed  and  hacked  our  way 
through — How  do  you  account  for  it  that  every  living 
thing  in  it,  bird  and  beast,  is  fast,  fast  asleep? 


192  FESTIVAL  PLAYS 


Mentor. 


The  sleeping  sickness  is  nothing  new!  Everyone,  from 
Adam  down,  who  has  had  to  sit  through  after-dinner  ora- 
tory has  felt  a  touch  of  it !  It  is  only  the  orators  who 
are  immune ! 

The  Prince. 

And  this  forest — this  marvellous  forest  of  moss-roses  ? 

Mentor. 

Just  moss-roses !  The  soil  in  this  region  happens  to  be 
peculiarly  favourable  to  their  growth ! 

The  Prince. 

And  the  Princess  herself,  the  heart  and  soul  and  living 
embodiment  of  a  moss-rose? 

Mentor. 

My  dear  lad,  all  youths  of  the  princely  temperament 
are  like  you !  All  want  to  turn  the  cold  hard  facts  of  sci- 
ence into  romance,  with  a  beautiful  maid  at  the  root  of 
a  beautiful  mystery !  To  let  you  into  a  family  confidence, 
it  originated  with  my  great-aunt!  Oh,  she  was  not  beau- 
tiful ;  she  was  practical  and  punctual,  like  me !  In  order 
to  be  always  in  the  right  and  put  her  husband  always  in 
the  wrong  she  used  to  turn  the  hands  of  the  clock  to  what- 
ever hour  she  thought  would  be  for  his  best  good!  It 
was  one  of  those  large,  old-fashioned  clocks,  you  know! 
And  one  night,  while  inside  the  case,  she  got  caught  in 


PRINCESS  MOSS-ROSE  I9ij 

the  works,  and  for  eight  days  went  up  and  down,  clinging 
to  the  weights,  ticking  off  the  seconds,  striking  the  hours, 
before  she  was  rescued  by  the  little  Swiss  man  who  came 
periodically  to  wind  and  regulate  the  household  time- 
pieces! My  great-uncle-by-marriage,  though  at  the  time 
distracted  with  anxiety,  has  since  been  heard  to  say  that 
those  were  the  happiest  because  the  most  unpunctual  hours 
of  his  life !  Since  which  time  it  has  passed  into  a  proverb 
when  an3d;hing  is  wrong  with  the  works  of  anything  to 
look  for  a  woman  in  the  case ! 

The  Prince. 
What  you  say  no  doubt  is  true,  and  yet — 

Mentor. 

And  yet,  like  all  young  fools  you  won't  believe  me  till 
you  yourself  have  proved  it!  In  spite  of  all  these  warn- 
ings, in  the  shape  of  fragments  of  Kings'  Sons  who  have 
lost  their  lives  in  the  attempt!  If  these  poor  witnesses 
could  speak,  which,  think  you,  would  say,  go  forward. 
Prince  Charming  ?     Persevere  unto  the  end ! 

The  Prince. 

Which,  think,  you,  would  say.  Turn  back,  Prince  Charm- 
ing !     Give  it  up ! 

Mentor. 

All!     Every  mother's  son  of  them! 


194  FESTIVAL  PLAYS 


The  Prince. 


Not  one!     Not  one  protoplasmic  atomy  of  one! 

[At  this  challenge  the  Feagments  of  Kings'  Sons 
become  endowed  with  the  powers  of  life.  The 
Hands  applaud,  clap  the  Prince  on  the  back,  or 
shake  hands  with  him,  the  Legs  dance,  and  indeed 
the  ruder  of  these  buffet  Mentor,  one  going  so  far 
as  to  kick  his  hat  off.  The  Torso  inclines  itself 
approvingly,  the  Heads  bow,  and  many  Voices  cry 
"Go  forward.  Prince  Charming!  Persevere  to  the 
end!"] 

The  Prince. 

You  hear?  [To  Mentor.]  I  thank  you,  comrades,  or 
fragments  of  comrades ;  I  thank  you  with  all  my  heart  I 

Mentor. 

More  fools  they !  .  .  .  You  see  that  while  we  have  found 
countless  hearts  we  have  not  come  upon  one  single  set  of 
hrains !  Now,  now !  [Evading  some  of  the  Fragments 
who  seem  disposed  to  resent  this.]  Since  you  are  in  pieces 
can't  you  rest  in  peace  ? 

The  Prince. 

Forward,  that's  the  word !  With  the  Heart  for  my  de- 
vice, let  my  motto  be:  Fbrward,  to  success,  or  death  in 
the  attempt! 

[He  hacks  away  at  the  hedge,  on  which  all  the  Frag- 
ments aid  him.] 


PRINCESS  MOSS-ROSE  195 

Mentor. 

Since  you  are  determined  to  go  on,  why  not  try  skill  in- 
stead of  strength!  See  how  all  these  branches  seem  to 
radiate  from  a  common  centre,  somewhere  not  far  away, 
as  if  they  had  fountained,  tent-wise,  over  a  clear  space! 
.  .  .  What's  that  noise? 

The  Prince. 

People  approaching !     Who  can  it  be  ? 

[We  now  hear  a  swish-swash  approaching  from  the 
outer  forest,  also  the  sound  of  an  old  nuins  stick. 
Pausing,  the  Prince  and  Mentor  turn,  and  see  two 
elderly  Frogs.     These  halt,  and  salute.] 

First  Frog. 
Pardon.     Prince  Charming,  I  believe ! 

Second  Frog. 

We  believe ! 

The  Prince. 

[Salutes.]  At  your  service,  gentlemen! — Why,  you  are 
my  two  old  friends  from  the  Frog-pond! 

The  Frogs. 
[Gratified.]     The  same.     The  same! 


196  FESTIVAL  PLAYS 


First  Frog. 


It's  a  long  time  since  Your  Higliness  has  made  mud  pies 
and  listened  to  our  tales ! 

The  Prince. 

But  never  have  I  forgotten  these!  The  proof  is,  I  am 
here,  following  the  prickly  quest  for  the  Sleeping  Beauty 
in  the  enchanted  forest  of  moss-roses ! 

First  Frog. 

All  Kings'  Sons  to  whom  the  tale  is  told  sooner  or  later 
follow  the  same  quest! 

The  Prince. 

And  fall  beside  the  way!  [Sighs,  on  which  all  the 
Hearts  sigh  also.] 

Second  Frog. 

True!  Failures,  but  glorious!  They  fell  because  they 
were  in  advance  of  their  time !     But  you — 

The  Prince. 

I? 

Second  Frog. 


You  will  succeed,  because  you  are  the  Man  of  the  Hour 

The  Prince. 
[Bows.]     I  thank  you  much  for  telling  me  this ! 


PRINCESS  MOSS-ROSE  197 

First  Frog. 

Don't  mention  it !  We  have  followed  you,  every  step 
of  the  way,  rather  sloM'ly,  because  of  my  brother's  rheuma- 
tism— 

Second  Frog. 

I  always  get  rheumatism  unless  I  have  wet  feet !  To 
sit  in  a  puddle  on  a  chilly  evening,  that's  the  only  way  to 
keep  well  I 

First  Frog. 

At  any  rate  we  got  ahead  of  the  jackdaw  and  the  robin. 
Flighty  things,  they  stopped  to  wake  up  everybody  and 
have  a  bit  of  worm  with  every  old  acquaintance  on  the 
way! — There  they  are  now !  Flighty  things!  [He  shale es 
his  stick  at  two  birds  whom  we  hear  chattering  and  whis- 
tling in  a  nearby  thicket.] 

The  Prince. 

My  old  friends !  [He  waves  his  hand,  whistling  to  the 
Birds  who  respond  in  hind.]     But,  come !     To  work ! 

First  Frog. 

Sir,  we  ask  the  privilege  of  following  the  adventure  with 
you!  In  our  tadpole  days,  aye,  even  as  pollywogs,  we 
were  devoted  to  the  Frog  who  was  the  oldest  and  most  re- 
spected inhabitant  of  our  pond.  When  he  was  chosen  god- 
father to  the  Princess  it  was  we  who  carried  the  christen- 
ing mug  to  the  palace.  We  were  present  when  he  was 
knighted,  and  baroneted !     And  now,  if  he  has  dried  up 


198  FESTIVAL  PLAYS 

we  wish  to  bestow  on  him  a  watery  grave  and  dig  a  mud- 
hole  to  his  memory.     [He  weeps.] 

Second  Frog. 

That's  it;  a  mud-hole  to  the  memory  of  Sir  Amphibi- 
ous!     [Weeps.] 

The  Prince. 

Gentlemen,  your  sentiments  do  you  credit,  and  believe 
me,  if  there  is  anything  I  can  do  in  the  way  of  restora- 
tives .  .  .  casting  a  wet  blanket,  or  the  like — !  Why, 
what's  this?  [Stepping  aside,  he  stoops  to  examine  some- 
thing against  which  his  foot  had  brushed.] 

All. 
[Excited.]     What  is  it? 

The  Prince. 

The  hand  of  a  man — not  dead,  but  warm  with  sleep ! 

Mentor. 

[Excited,  stoops  to  examine.]  A  man  wearing  the 
badge  of  Court  Gardener,  of  the  time  of  King  Johannes 
Giovanni  John! 

[Releasing  the  spray  from  the  Gardener's  hand  the 
Prince  raises  this,  whereupon  it  snaps  hack  toward 
the  still  invisible  mug.  All  exclaim,  and  set  to 
work  vigorously,  assisted  by  the  Fragments,  and 
soon  all  the  sprays  are  drawn  aside,  curtain-wise. 


PRINCESS  MOSS-ROSE  199 

or  pulled  hack  by  unseen  forces  toward  the  mug. 
At  last  the  scene  is  revealed,  of  the  Court  asleep, 
Princess  Moss-Eose  in  the  centre,  on  her  couch, 
against  the  mug.     All  exclaim,  and  do  homage.] 

The  Prince. 
At  last,  at  last! 

The  Head  Fragments. 

At  last ! 

[The  Hearts  sigh.] 

The  Prince. 

Poor  dears,  to  think  that  I  should  succeed  where  such 
good  men  and  true  have  failed ! 

First  Frog. 

Ah,  to  be  the  Man  of  the  Hour — that's  success !  If 
only  one  knows  enough  to  realise  it! 

Second  Frog. 

And  there,  there,  is  our  own  dear  Sir  Amphibious ! 
Not  changed  one  bit! 

Mentor. 

Well,  it's  all  very  well  to  talk  of  success,  but  after  all 
you  have  only  come  upon  a  bit  of  still-life,  a  canvas  by 
an  old  master,  as  it  were !  And  the  chances  are  it  would 
crumble  to  dust  if  you  were  to  transfer  it  to  the  Eoyal 
Museum ! 


200  FESTIVAL  PLAYS 

The  Peince. 
But  they're  only  asleep! 

The  Frogs. 

That's  all ! 

Mentor. 

What's  the  difference,  if  you  can't  wake  them? 

The  Prince. 
But  I  must !     I  must !  .  .  .  Eh,  my  friends  ? 

Voices. 
[From  invisible  sources.]     You  must! 

The  Prince. 

[Gazing  on  Moss-Eose  from  afar.]     And  yet,  so  beau- 
tiful, how  dare  I  ? 

The  Voices. 

You  must! 

The  Prince. 

[To  Mentor.]     You  hear?    They  say  I  must! 

Mentor. 

Who  say  so?     Simply  the  echoes  of  your  sophomoric 
fancy ! 


PRINCESS  MOSS-ROSE  201 

The  Voices. 

Fiddlestrings ! 

Mentor. 

Eh?     I  beg  your  pardon? 

The  Voices. 
Fudge!     Gammon  and  spinach! 

Mentor. 

[Piqued.]  Oh,  very  well!  Only  I  don't  see  the  good 
of  getting  a  degree  if  I'm  not  allowed  to  know  anything 
about  anything! 

A  Single  Voice. 

Go  forward !     Take  your  fate  into  your  own  hands  ? 

The  Prince. 

Who  gave  me  that  counsel?  You,  ray  jackdaw?  You, 
friend  robin? 

First  Frog. 

Oh,  that's  Destiny !     Destiny  always  is  in  at  the  death ! 

The  Prince. 

The  death? 

First  Frog. 

Or  the  other  ending ! 


202  FESTIVAL  PLAYS 


Mentor. 


Well,  if  they  liave  to  be  wakened  let's  go  to  work  and 
waken  them !  Here,  I'll  begin  with  the  governess !  [He 
approaches  the  Governess.]  Miss!  I  regret  to  disturb 
you,  Miss,  but  do  you  happen  to  know  the  date?  Where 
was  the  first  nail  knocked,  eh?  How  many  scruples  make 
a  conscience  ?  Bah !  Things  that  I  could  answer  in  my 
sleep ! 

The  Frogs. 

[StroJcing  Sir  Amphibious.]  Dry  as  a  bone,  poor 
dear !  Lucky  we  brought  a  wet  sponge  with  us !  [After 
repeated  efforts  to  arouse  their  friend,  they  desist  in  de- 
spair.] Dear,  dear,  if  we  could  only  get  him  down  to  the 
marshes ! 

The  Prince. 

What  can  I  do?  [He  appeals  to  the  Hearts  who  sigh 
in  response.  He  listens  to  them  more  closely.]  What's 
that?  You  want  to  sing!  [He  sets  them  in  the  window 
where  they  give  the  notes  of  the  scale,  like  an  Molian 
harp.]  Do,  re,  mi,  fa,  sol,  la,  si — and  the  scale  is  closed 
by  the  echo  in  my  own  heart !     What  is  it  you  sing. 

King's  son,  King's  son. 
Nothing  ventured,  nothing  won ! 
Forward !     Forward !     To  your  bliss ! 
Wake  your  Princess  with  your  kiss ! 

[At  this  the  Prince  throws  up  his  arm  in  an  ecstasy 
of  understanding,  then  reverently  approaches  the 


PRINCESS  MOSS-ROSE  203 

sleeping  Moss-Rose,  and,  stooping,  kisses  her. 
The  Hearts  sigh  in  musical  sympathy  not  unmixed 
with  personal  regret.  Moss-Eose  stirs  slightly, 
then,  by  degrees  ivakens  fully.  Meanwhile  the 
Prince  stands  aside.     All  waken.] 

Moss-Rose. 

Oh,  mother,  father,  I  had  such  a  dream!     I  dreamed 
that  I  was  asleep ! 

The  King. 

Oh,  my  child,  impossible!     Though  I  believe  I've  had 
forty  winks  myself!     What  were  we  saying,  love? 

The  Queen. 

About  our  daughter's  future.     You  know  it's  time  we 
thought  of  a  suitable,  ahem ! 

The  Chancellor. 

A  suitable  alliance,  madam !     I  was  just  running  over 
the  list  of  marriageable  princes ! 

The  Gardener. 
[Waking.]     Eh,  a  bonny  bush  from  a  wee  slip! 

The  Frog. 

Oh,    I    am    so    dry!     Eh?     Who's    this?     And    this? 
[Seeing  the  other  Frogs.] 


S04  FESTIVAL  PLAYS 

Moss-EosE. 

I  dreamed  I  had  been  asleep  one  hundred  years — We 
all  had  been  asleep  one  hundred  years!  I  wonder  if  it 
could  be  true ! 

The  Governess. 

But,  my  dear,  such  things  don't  happen ! 

Mentor. 
Yes,  they  do !     And  you're  a  living  illustration ! 

The  Governess. 

[Surprised.]  I  beg  your  pardon!  Whoever  you  are, 
if  you  had  a  diploma  you  would  know  better ! 

Mentor. 
If  you  had  a  degree  you'd  know  better,  so  there ! 

Moss-Eose. 

[Half  rising  from  her  couch.]  Haven't  we  all  been 
asleep  one  hundred  years? 

The  Queen. 
What  can  the  child  mean? 

The  Chancellor. 

There's  no  precedent  for  it,  Your  Royal  Highness! 
And  yet — [Yawns  and  rubs  eyes.] 


PRINCESS  MOSS-ROSE  205 

Moss-EosE. 

There  was  a  word  that  everyone  was  afraid  to  say  to 
me! 

All. 

[Beginning  to  remember.]     Oh,  yes! 

Moss-RosE. 

Beginning  with  s-p ! 

All. 

Oh,  hush! 

Moss-RosE. 

Oh,  but  one  mustn't  be  afraid  of  anything !  .  .  .  What's 
this?  [Noticing  the  spindle  in  her  hand.  All  looJc,  in- 
terested.] 

Mentor. 

[Advances,  examines  it.]  Spindle  belonging  to  a  spin- 
ning-wheel of  a  century  ago! 

All. 
[Exclaim,  remembering.]     Oh! 

Moss-RosE. 

That's  the  word!  Spin!  Oh,  it  won't  ever  hurt  me 
any  more! 

[As  she  speal's  the  spindle  is  drawn  by  its  thread  bach 
into  the  mug.] 


206  FESTIVAL  PLAYS 

The  Chancellor. 

[Remembering.]  To  be  sure.  Sentence  commuted — 
kindness  of  Sir  Amphibious — sleep  for  one  hundred  years ! 

All. 

[Remembering.]     To  be  sure! 

The  Frog. 

[WaJcing  fully.]  Oh,  I  am  so  dry!  Eh,  what?  Why, 
Here  are  my  two  tadpoles !     Quite  grown  up,  eh,  lads ! 

Moss-EosE. 

[Rising.]  And  here's  my  birthday  cake,  uncut !  But 
now  I'm  one  hundred  and  sixteen  years  old !  But  my 
dream — A  great  many  Kings'  Sons  tried  to  hack  their 
way  through  the  moss-rose  forest!  [The  Hearts  sigh 
loud,  the  Fragments  salute,  and  do  homage,  as  best  they 
can.]  See!  See!  There  they  all  are,  what's  left  of 
them!  But  one — Prince  Charming  was  his  name!  Ah, 
me !  [She  turns  away,  and  so  comes  face  to  face  with  the 
Prince  who  now  steps  forward.]  Ah!  You — are  you 
real,  or  my  dream  ? 

The  Prince. 

By  my  faith,  lady,  I  do  not  know!  It  is  all  as  I  my- 
self have  hoped  and  dreamed,  only  more  beautiful ! 


PRINCESS  MOSS-ROSE  20? 

The  King. 

[Grasping  the  situation.]  Wkat's  this?  What's  this? 
A  son-in-law  who  can  laugh  at  my  jokes  in  my  own  Ian- 
guage !  If  it's  a  dream,  why,  I  trust  no  one  will  dare  to 
wake  me  up ! 

The  Queen. 

Heaven  bless  ye,  my  children !  Prince,  do  tell  me  what 
the  latest  fashions  are! 

The  Cook. 
[Wahing  with  a  start.]     That  roast  is  done  to  a  turn! 

The  Butler. 

[His  alarm-docJc  going  off,  walss.]  Shut  up!  I'm  not 
asleep  !     Your  Majesties,  dinner  is  served ! 

The  King. 

Come !  No  formality !  Eeally  after  such  a  hearty  nap 
I  must  stretch  my  legs  a  bit!  [Giving  the  Queen  his 
hand  he  dances  round  the  hall  and  to  the  dining-room. 
Mentor  talces  the  Governess  for  partner;  All  choose 
partners.  The  Prince  and  Moss-Eose  of  course  together. 
In  the  middle  of  the  dance  Moss-Eose  stops  short.] 

Moss-Eose. 

Hush !     Listen ! 

All. 

What  is  it? 


208  FESTIVAL  PLAYS 

Moss-EosE. 

The  Spin- Wheel  song!     Hark,  the  merry  Spin-Wheers 
song! 

Wake!     Day's  begun! 

All. 

[Joining  in  gleefully.] 
Thread  comes  short  and  thread  comes  long, 
Spin,  spinning,  spun! 

[As  they  dance  out,  singing,  the  Curtain  of  Moss- 
EosES  falls  over  them  again,  closing  the  Third 
Event  in  the  life  of  the  Princess  Moss-Eose,  and 
leaving  us  in  the  pleasant  certainty  that  she  and 
her  Prince  Charming  lived  happily  forever  after. 
May  you  who  have  peeped  through  the  veil  with  me 
do  the  samel] 


THE  TESTING  OF  SIR  GAWAYNE 

All  Hallowe^en 


THE  TESTING  OF  SIR  GA WAYNE 

All  Hallowe'en 

What  follows  takes  place  at  King  Arthur's  Court  in  merry 
Carlisle,  on  the  Eve  of  All-Hallowmass  when  strange 
things  happen  .  .  .  when  the  wicked  crafts  of  sorcery 
work  havoc  with  knightly  adventure,  and  when  en- 
chantments bring  about  marvelous  endings  in  affairs 
of  love.  We  find  ourselves  looking  backward  through 
the  years  upon  a  scene  that  renews  itself  before  our 
eyes  in  the  castle  hall.  On  one  side  is  the  banquet- 
ing-hall,  and  this  way  the  servants  pass  to  the 
kitchen  [kitching  we  shall  hear  it  called  by  Sir  Kay, 
the  steward  or  Seneschal]  On  the  other  side  the 
members  of  the  Court  pass  to  their  sleeping-chambers 
or  to  the  massive  door  that  opens  to  the  outer  world. 
A  window  gives,  first,  the  light  of  late  afternoon  in 
autumn,  then  moonlight,  and  finally  a  bright  dawn. 
A  fire  on  the  great  hearth  affords  a  cheerful  glow. 
When  it  is  necessary  to  light  the  hall  servants  will  set 
torches  in  their  sockets  against  the  wall.  The  walls 
are  adorned  with  trophies  of  the  chase,  and  with  the 
arms  of  knight-errantry.  A  table,  settees,  a  few 
plain  chairs,  and  throne-chairs  for  the  King  and  Queen 
suffice  for  furnishing.  We  shall  now  and  then  be 
taxed  in  our  memory  of  French  and  Latin  to  under- 
stand some  of  the  exp'essions  we  shall  hear  .  .  .  as, 
211 


212  FESTIVAL  PLAYS 

for  instance,  when  someone  bidding  others  leave  the 
room  cries,  "Avoid!  Avoid!"  or  when  the  word 
"quest"  is  used  at  one  time  as  we  should  say  "ques- 
tion" and  at  another  for  "adventure."  We  shall  ob- 
serve, too,  that  forms  we  have  been  taught  to  con- 
sider common  or  ungrammatical,  obtained  then  in 
polite  language,  such  as  "afore"  where  we  now  say 
"before,"  or  the  double  negative,  "not  never."  This 
is  something  that  should  maJce  us  hesitate  before  we 
criticise  the  speech  of  simple  people,  country-folh,  and 
ash  ourselves  if  their  homely  phrase  is  not  after  all 
but  a  survival  of  the  elegance  of  days  gane  by.  It 
will  interest  u^  furthermore  to  note  how  in  these  days 
of  chivalry  when  religion,  love,  and  deeds  of  arms 
are  the  topics  of  the  chronicler  how  freely,  though  not 
lightly,  the  names  of  Holy  Persons  are  invoked  in  con- 
versation. The  Characters  whom  we  shall  see 
enact  the  little  drama  are  King  Arthur  and  his 
lovely  Queen  Guinevere,  several  Knights  of  the 
EouND  Table,  including  Sir  Kay,  the  gruff  steward 
or  Seneschal,  Sir  Bors,  Sir  Bleoberis,  Sir  Melio- 
GRANGE,  and  Sir  Gawayne  about  whom  the  story 
concerns  itself.  Then  there  is  the  Knight  the  res- 
cue of  whom  nearly  cost  Arthur  his  realm,  his  life, 
and  his  queen.  Also  there  is  the  Little  Page  who 
for  his  precocious  valour  was  dubbed  Jcnight  and  there- 
after known  as  Sir  Griflet,  and  there  is  the  Out- 
rageous Giant  who  was  but  the  gallant  Knight 
Delivere  under  a  spell  of  enchantment.  Among  the 
ladies  we  find  Dame  Laurel,  and  the  Damosel  who 
rode  in  such  breathless  haste  to  Arthur's  court,  seek- 


THE  TESTING  OF  SIR  GAWAYNE  213 

ing  aid  for  her  captive  Knight.  And,  most  impor- 
tant is  the  Deliverance  La  Belle  Pilgrim  who 
was  mocTced  at  for  being  "a  loathly  lady."  And  of 
course  there  are  Pages  and  Servants  and  Gentle- 
men and  Women  in  waiting  and  Squires  and  all  the 
royal  rest. 

The  Queen  is  seated  at  her  emhroidery-frame,  some  of 
her  Ladies  similarly  occupied  about  her.  The  Damg- 
SEL  dts  near  trying  to  fix  her  thoughts  upon  a 
scroll  that  she  however  does  not  read.  Some  of  the 
Knights  are  occupying  themselves  peacefully  in  di- 
vers ways,  two  playing  a  game  of  chess.  Someone 
sings  to  the  harp.  Meanwhile  the  Little  Page  Jceeps 
watch  at  the  window. 

Guinevere. 
Are  there  no  signs  yet  of  my  lord  that  he  doth  return? 

The  i*AGE. 

Not  yet,  madam! 

Guinevere. 

Alas !  Evensong  time  is  overpassed,  and  my  lord  comes 
not! 

The  Damosel. 

Now  is  my  heart  more  heavier  than  ever  it  was  before 
for  the  sorrow  I  have  brought  upon  the  gentlest  and  fair- 
est lady  of  the  world ! 


214  FESTIVAL  PLAYS 

Guinevere. 

Ah,  you  do  well  to  let  fall  down  your  head  for  ehame, 
for  we  had  never  been  in  this  sorry  pass  if  you  had  never 
come  hitherward,  praying  King  Arthur  for  succour  for 
your  knight ! 

The  Damosel. 

Ah,  Madam,  I  pray  you  of  mercy  to  mis-say  me  no  more, 
for  my  heart  is  like  to  brast  with  its  own  woe ! 

Sir  Kay. 

Madam,  you  are  greatly  to  blame  so  to  rebuke  the 
damosel,  for,  wit  ye  well,  of  his  own  will  my  Lord  King 
Arthur  did  seek  and  take  him  upon  that  hard  adventure 
he  is  gone  uppn ! 

Guinevere. 

So  God  me  help,  it  is  all  the  greater  shame  to  all  you 
noble  knights  that  your  fellowship  should  suffer  your  king 
to  take  such  an  adventure  upon  him  to  his  destruction! 
[The  Knights  exclaim,  crying,  "Gramercy,  Madam! 
Now  by  my  head,  etc."  But  much  wrought  up,  the  Queen 
continues.]  Ah,  now,  I  see  well  that  all  coward  knights 
be  not  dead,  sith  you,  Sir  Bors,  and  you.  Sir  Bleoberis,  sit 
playing  at  the  chess,  the  while  my  dear  Lord,  your  King, 
may  be  mishandled  and  smitten  down,  horse  and  man,  or 
villainously  wounded,  or,  peradventure,  slain ! 

[The  Two   Knights   thus   addressed  start  up,  an- 
grily.] 


THE  TESTING  OF  SIR  GAWAYNE  215 

Sir  Bleoberis. 

Gramercy,  Madam !  It  passeth  bounds  that  you  should 
put  the  suspection  of  cowardice  on  me,  and  there  is  no 
knight  under  heaven  that  dare  make  it  good  on  me ! 

Sir  Bors, 

Madam,  you  are  a  woman,  and  may  not  fight,  but  let 
now  some  worshipful  knight  of  our  fellowship  take  on 
himself  your  quarrel,  and  call  me  coward,  and  here  is  my 
glove  to  prove  the  contrary  with  my  hands  upon  his  body ! 
[Throws  down  his  glove.] 

Sir  Meliogrance. 

Then  here  am  I  known  to  all  men  as  Sir  Meliogi'ance, 
and  I  will  take  on  me  my  lady  the  Queen's  quarrel,  and 
I  will  joust  with  you.  Sir  Bleoberis,  and  you.  Sir  Bors, 
proving  you  recreant  knights  with  my  hands  upon  your 
bodies!     [He  throws  down  his  glove.] 

The  Damosel. 

[Moans.]  Xow  am  I  right  heavy  for  the  sorrow  I  have 
brought  upon  King  Arthur's  Court! 

A  Little  Page. 

[Runs  forward,  challengingly.]  Now  though  hardly  of 
years  to  bear  a  shield,  yet  if  some  worshipful  knight  of 
this  fellowship  will  dub  me  his  knight,  then  will  I  too 
take  on  me  the  Queen's  quarrel,  jousting  with  the  knights 


216  FESTIVAL  PLAYS 

of  these  worshipful  knights'  following,  for  leaver  would 
1  be  cut  into  an  hundred  pieces  than  that  my  dear  Lady 
should  be  gainsayed!  [The  dosing  words,  spoTcen  almost 
with  sobs.] 

Some  of  the  Ladies. 

Oh,  spoken  like  a  sweet  and  noble  cliild! 
[Many  of  the  Knights  laugh.] 

Sir  Bors. 

[Affecting  to  shudder.]  Boo-oo!  My  gentlemen  had 
best  look  well  to  their  arms,  now  that  a  raging  lion  is 
come  among  us ! 

[A  Fellow-Page  giggles  tauntingly  at  our  hero  who 
turns  on  him.] 


The  Little  Page. 

I  am  of  gentle  blood,  and  but  for  lack  of  beard,  as  well 
entitled  to  bear  arms  as  any  of  this  worshipful  fellowship, 
and  if  anyone  is  so  venturesome  that  he  would  say  the 
contrary  I  will  make  it  good"  with  my  body  upon  his  bod}-, 
with  these  two  hands  tearing  him  limb  from  limb !  [The 
Giggling  Page  retreats,  affrighted.] 


Sir  Bleoberis. 

[With  impatience.]     Is  this  a  pages'  affair  or  a  quarrel 
among  knights  of  worship  and  renown? 


THE  TESTING  OF  SIR  GAWAYNE  217 

Guinevere. 

[With  emotion.']  Peace,  my  good  Griflet!  And  you, 
gentlemen,  forbear !     I  spake  over  hastily  ! 

Sir  Kay. 

Peace,  daffish  knights!  Pick  up  your  gloves!  See  ye 
not  that  the  Queen  is  distraught  and  clean  out  of  her 
wits  with  anxiousness  for  the  safety  of  the  King?  .  .  , 
Madam,  you  do  ill  to  begrudge  King  Arthur  his  lone  quest- 
ings,  sith  all  men  of  high  courage  find  it  merry  to  serve 
under  a  chieftain  that  will  put  his  person  in  adventure 
as  other  poor  knights  do!  [To  this  there  is  a  general 
murmur  of  assent.]  And  now,  as  the  tables  have  been 
spread  this  long  while,  for  the  third  time  of  asking,  will 
it  pleasure  you  to  sit  down  to  supper? 

[Another  general  murmur  shows  that  this  suggestion 
meets  ivith  favour.] 

Guinevere. 

Let  those  eat  and  drink  who  can !  My  heart  is  too 
heavy,  but  go  you  all,  my  lords  and  ladies,  gentlemen  and 
gentlewomen !  Sit  you  down  to  meat  and  enjoy  the  feast ! 
Later  will  I  sup  privily  with  my  lord  on  his  return !  .  ,  . 
As  for  you,  worshipful  knights,  let  me  who  provoked  the 
quarrel  between  you  heal  it  without  the  letting  of  good 
blood ! 

[Before  the  would-he  combatants  can  prevent  her  she 
herself  picks  up  and  restores  their  thrown-down 
gloves.     All  do  her  fitting  oheisance,  and  pass  into 


218  FESTIVAL  PLAYS 

the  banqueting-hall  mitli  the  exception  of  the  Damo- 
SEL  and  the  Little  Page.] 

Sir  Bleoberis. 

[As  they  go  out,  to  Sir  Bors.]  Gramercy,  but  a  good 
game  was  spoiled !     I  had  you  mated  in  three  moves ! 

Sir  Bors. 
Not  so!     I  had  your  queen  in  forfeit! 

Sir  Bleoberis. 

Ah,  the  Queen,  the  Queen!  'Tis  ever  the  Queen  that 
will  make  or  mar  the  fortunes  of  the  King! 

[From  the  tanqueting-hall  one  hears  the  sounds  of 
merry-making  subdued,  and  the  strains  of  min- 
strelsy, as  an  heroic  lay  is  sung  to  the  accompani- 
ment of  the  harp.] 

Guinevere. 

Now  let  saddle  horses,  and  guided  by  you,  good  damo- 
sel,  I  will  follow  after  my  lord!  .  .  .  Hark!  I  hear  an 
horn !  .  .  .  Arthur ! 

[The  winding  notes  of  the  horn  are  heard.] 

The  Little  Page, 

[At  the  window.]  Nay,  Madam!  It  is  but  Sir  Ga- 
wayne  who  returns  from  hunting! 


THE  TESTING  OF  SIR  GAWAYNE  219 

Guinevere. 

Sir  Gawayne!  Let  send  for  him!  [The  Page  hastens 
out.]     It  may  be  he  brings  tidings  of  my  Lord! 

[The  Page  returns,  attending  on  Sir  Gawayne.] 

Sir  Gawayne. 

[Kneeling  to  hiss  the  hand  of  the  Queen.]  Fair  Queen 
and  dear  Aunt  Guinevere!  But  wherefore  do  I  find  you 
in  such  heavy  cheer  with  the  tears  upon  your  cheeks  ? 

Guinevere. 

Ah,  Gawayne !  Your  dear  Uncle,  my  good  Lord,  the 
King.  .  .  .  But  sit  we  down  and  ye  shall  hear!  [They 
sit.]  It  was  yestreen  at  the  undern  hour  that  we  sat  here, 
listening  to  minstrelsy !  All  of  a  sudden  the  King  cried 
out,  "Now  by  the  Holy  Eood  the  third  day  hence  will  be 
All-Hallowmass !  Now  by  the  faith  of  my  body  and  on 
my  head  as  anointed  king  will  I  not  set  me  down  to  meat 
on  All-Hallowmass  until  I  shall  have  taken  on  me  and 
brought  to  a  good  end  some  high  quest  that  shall  bring 
to  me  and  my  goodly  fellowship  great  worship  and  re- 
nown!" Hardly  had  he  so  spoken  when  riding  into  the 
hall  came  this  damosel  who  there|on  alighted  from  her 
palfrey  and  threw  herself  flatling  at  my  good  lord's  feet 
and  lay  there  grovelling  and  praying  him  for  succour  for 
her  knight! 

Damosel. 

[Weeping.]     Alas  that  ever  I  came! 


220  FESTIVAL  PLAYS 

Guinevere. 

Fie  upon  you  for  weeping  when  tears  are  all  no  boot! 
Eelate  your  errand  to  Sir  Gawa3me ! 


The  Damosel. 

It  fortuned  in  this  wise:  my  troth  was  plighted  that  I 
should  be  wedded  to  a  passing  fair  gentleman  and  knight 
of  haut  renown,  a  true  lover  and  deserving  of  a  good  end ! 
As  together  we  rode  forth,  planning  for  our  marriage,  we 
passed  through  a  dark  forest  till  we  happed  upon  a  grimly 
castle !  As  we  gazed  upon  its  towers  wondering  who  might 
dwell  therein  out  rushed  a  churlish  knight.  Oh,  a  mighty 
giant,  one  of  the  world's  perilous  fighters,  seven  times  the 
height  of  mortal  man,  and  with  the  strength  of  seven  men ! 
[In  spite  of  his  bravado  the  Little  Page  shivers  audibly.] 
Nathless  all  undaunted  my  knight  dressed  his  shield  and 
set  his  spear,  crying,  "How  now,  rude  Saracen!  An  ye 
be  a  true  fighter  come  and  prove  it,  spear  to  spear,  and 
sword  to  sword,  and  body  to  body!"  But  the  miscreant 
laughed  in  mockage,  and  set  on  my  poor  love,  belabouring 
him  with  a  huge  club,  and  dragged  him  down  from  his 
saddle,  shivering  his  spear,  and  shattering  his  sword,  and 
splitting  his  helm  clear  through  to  the  brain-pan!  [At 
this  the  Little  Page  shudders  in  delighted  horror.'] 
Ah,  little  page,  I  see  well  now  that  ye  like  this  tale,  but  I 
do  assure  you  it  is  no  matter  for  enjoyment!  .  .  .  And 
all  this  while  I  shrieked  shrilly  and  kneeled  in  the  mire 
before  the  churlish  wight,  with  my  two  hands  lifted,  pray- 
ing him  for  the  love  of  Heaven  to  have  mercy  on  my 


THE  TESTING  OF  SIR  GAWAYNE  221 

knight!  But  the  murtherous  monster  only  laughed  the 
louder,  with  a  great  noise  like  thunder,  spitting  flames 
from  his  enormous  mouth,  and  bound  my  knight  hand 
and  feet  and  threw  him  into  the  dungeon  keep,  the  while 
I,  leaping  on  my  palfrey,  made  my  escape,  riding  hither, 
like  the  wind,  to  merry  Carlisle,  to  King  Arthur's  court, 
clear  into  this  very  hall,  and  threw  myself  at  the  King's 
feet,  praying  succour  for  my  love !     [Wee/)s.] 

Guinevere. 
And  did  my  Lord  stay  his  hand?  "Gramercy,"  cried 
he,  "but  this  is  the  quest  that  even  now  I  prayed  for! 
Xor  by  the  faith  of  my  body  as  anointed  king  will  I  set 
me  down  to  meat  on  All-Hallowmass  or  ever  I  shall  have 
brought  it  to  a  good  end !"  And  then  he  made  no  more 
words,  but  took  his  shield  and  buckled  it  about  his  neck, 
and  girt  on  his  good  sword  Excalibur,  and  lightly  he  took 
his  horse  and  leaped  upon  him,  and  departed  on  his  way! 
And,  though  it  is  but  a  little  faring  hence,  last  night  went 
by,  and  to-day  the  hour  of  evensong  is  overpassed,  and  he 
comes  not  back!     [TFeeps.] 

Sir  Gawatne. 
[WalJcs,  perturbed.]     ISTow  meseemeth  for  to  tempt  God 
it  is  no  wisdom,  and  the  'King  hath  put  this  realm  into 
the  greatest  domage  that  ever  realm  was  in  by  jeoparding 
his  life  in  hazard  with  a  giant! 

Guinevere. 
Ye   say  truth! — Gawayne — [She   advances   iotvard   the 
knight,  and  speaJcs  impressively.]     All  other  knights  of 


222  FESTIVAL  PLAYS 

the  good  fellowship  say  that  it  would  put  rebukes  on  Ar- 
thur, shaming  him  through  England,  Ireland,  Wales  and 
Scotland,  for  to  seek  to  rescue  him  in  an  adventure  he 
has  made  oath  to  enterprise  alone !  But  I  say,  not  so, 
sithen  it  is  no  mortal  man  he  has  to  do  with,  but  a  churl- 
ish wight,  an  outrageous  giant,  armed  with  the  craft  of 
sorcery ! 

Sir  Gawayne. 

[StrucJc  hy  this  argument.]  By  my  head  that  sounds 
like  a  good  counsel ! 

Guinevere. 

{^Following  up  her  advantage.']  Then  by  your  knight- 
hood and  fealty  do  I  charge  ye,  take  upon  yourself  this 
matter ! 

Sir  Gawayne. 

[With  due  solem?iity.]  That  will  I  do,  and  that  will  I 
swear  to  do,  by  my  blood ;  as  a  Knight  of  the  Eound  Table, 
and  on  the  Four  Evangelists!  [He  Jcisses  the  hand  of 
the  Queen  and  is  about  to  go,  hut  pauses,  as  the  winding 
notes  of  a  horn  are  heard.    AH  exclaim.] 

All. 
[Excited.]     Hark!     An  horn! 

The  Little  Page. 

[Excited,  at  the  window.]  Madam,  it  is  the  King  who 
rides  hither  attended  by  a  knight,  their  horses  all-to- 
beswet ! 


THE  TESTING  OF  SIR  GAWAYNE  223 

Guinevere. 
Arthur  .  .  .  God  be  praised! 

Sir  Gawatne. 
[At  the  same  time.]     Thanks  be  to  Heaven,  the  King! 

The  Damosel. 

My  knight,  thank  Heaven! 

[All  hasten  to  meet  the  arrivals,  meanwhile  the  harp- 
ing in  the  banquet  hall  is  stilled,  and  the  banquet- 
ers crowd  in,  exclaiming  joyfully,  for  the  King's 
safe  return.] 

Sir  Kay. 

[Announcing  it  to  the  others.]  It  is  Arthur  who  comes 
back  from  his  quest  .  .  .  and  the  Knight  to  his  damosel ! 
Ah,  now  there  will  be  clippings  and  kissings  and  calling 
of  sweet  names,  I  warrant ! 

[Arthur  and  Guinevere  enter,  attended  by  Sir  Ga- 
WAYNE  and  the  Little  Page,  and  followed  by  the 
Damosel  and  her  Knight.  Now  ensues  a  mo- 
ment of  excited  ivelcome,  and  general  greeting. 
Attendants  bring  torches.] 

Arthur. 

[To  Guinevere,  as  they  enter. [  Ah,  my  dear  love,  it 
was  indeed  an  adventure  of  great  marvel  .  .  .  greater  hath 
no  knight  never  happed  upon,  I  dare  be  sworn ! 


224  FESTIVAL  PLAYS 

Guinevere. 

And,  thanks  be  to  God,  you  came  through  it  unscathed! 
[She  places  him  tenderly  in  his  chair  of  state,  and  looks 
at  him  with  scrutiny.^  Not  so !  For  here  is  blood  upon 
your  hand !  .  .  .  Haste,  now !  Let  bring  water  and  a 
healing  salve!     [Giving  orders.] 

Arthur. 

It  is  not  needed!  It  is  but  a  little  scratch  of  which  I 
shall  be  hastily  whole,  by  the  will  of  God ! 

Guinevere. 

Come,  then,  relate  your  adventure!  But  you  must  be 
a-hungered  and  athirst!  .  .  .  Let  make  a  banquet  of 
royalness  as  great  as  may  be,  in  honour  of  my  Lord's  re- 
turn!    [Going  toward  the  banquet-hall.] 

Arthur. 

[Detaining  her.]  Stay!  This  is  no  time  for  feastings! 
[This  announcement  causes  a  sensation.]  Bring  me  a 
little  deal  of  water,  for  my  tongue  is  parched!  [He 
drains  the  cup  which  is  brought  to  him,  while  all  look  on, 
struck  from  his  far  from  joyous  tone.] 

Sir  Bleoberis. 

[To  Sir  Bors.]  What  ails  the  King?  Think  you  he 
has  been  mischieved  in  some  sort? 


THE  TESTING  OF  SIR  GAWAYNE  225 

Sir  Boes. 

Truly  his  countenance  is  heavy  as  did  he  see  himself  like 
to  be  soonly  in  checkmate ! 

Arthur. 

[Refreshed  hij  the  draught.]  Ah!  Later  will  I  have 
meat  and  wine.  But  first  must  I  lay  bare  my  breast, 
making  clean  avowals!  My  lords  and  ladies,  gentlemen 
and  gentlewomen,  you  see  here  before  you  Arthur,  King 
of  Britain,  having  under  my  obeisance  AYales,  Ireland  and 
Scotland,  by  the  grace  of  God,  and  many  other  realms, 
also  head  of  the  worshipful  fellowship  of  the  Knights  of 
the  Eound  Table.  And  .  .  .  [Ee  pauses,  impressively] 
by  the  sinful  crafts  of  the  devil,  a  prisoner  on  parole ;  un- 
der pain  of  forfeiture  of  my  lands,  my  life,  my  queen ! 

[This,  as  well  may  he  imagined,  causes  a  profound 
sensation.] 

Several  Kxights  and  Ladies. 

My  lord,  what  say  you ! 

Other  Knights  and  Ladies. 
Sir!     What  words  be  these! 


Guinevere. 
My  lord  .  .  .  Arthur! 


226  FESTIVAL  PLAYS 

Several  Voices. 

The  Queen!  Look  to  the  Queen!  .  .  .  Oh,  almost  she 
fell  down  in  a  swound ! 

Guinevere. 

[Recovering  herself.]  It  is  naught  .  .  .  My  Lord,  I 
pray  you  that  you  will  expound  your  fearsome  rede! 

Arthur. 

That  will  I  do!  .  .  .  Let  all  be  seated.  [All  obey  the 
King,  whereupon  Arthur  explains.]  How  I  took  oath 
on  my  head  as  anointed  king  not  to  set  me  down  to  meat 
on  All-Hallowmass  or  I  had  undertaken  some  haut  quest 
already  do  ye  know.  [All  assent.]  Also  know  ye  how 
this  damosel  came  riding  hither  into  this  hall,  seeking 
succour  for  her  knight!  {^Again  All  assent.']  And  none 
is  there  that  knows  not  how  forthwith  I  enterprised  the 
matter!  [Again  All  assent.]  Now  hear  ye  how  I  fared 
with  it!  [All  settle  themselves  like  children  to  whom  a 
thrilling  tale  is  to  he  told.]  Arrived  afore  the  grimly 
tower  I  blew  my  horn  and  cried,  "How  now,  Sir  Knight, 
an  ye  be  a  fair  fighter  come,  prove  it,  spear  to  spear  and 
Bword  to  sword,  and  body  to  body!"  Whereon  rushed 
forth  the  most  outrageous  churl  and  greatest  murtherer 
was  ever  seen,  with  a  huge  laughter  like  thunder,  and 
spitting  flames  of  fire  from  his  monstrous  mouth!  And 
by  sorcery  he  cast  an  evil  spell  on  me,  so  that  its  scabbard 
would  not  loose  my  sword  Excalibur,  and  my  arm  fell 
helpless  to  my  side  like  as  it  had  been  the  arm  of  a  dead 


THE  TESTING  OF  SIR  GAWAYNE  227 

corp!  [The  Ladies  and  the  younger  Pages  shudder  au- 
dibly.] "How,  now,  King  Arthur,"  cried  the  rude  churl, 
"I  have  y,ou  at  a  vantage,  so  best  yield  yourself  without 
ado !"  "ISI"ow  not  ever,  nor  never  on  my  head,"  I  an- 
swered him,  "for  I  had  leaver  to  be  hacked  to  bits  than 
cry  mercy  of  such  a  fiendly  knight  that  it  is  no  true  knight 
at  all!"  [General  exclamations  of  approval  greet  this, 
many  crying,  "Oh  well  said!"  .  .  .  "Spolen  in  hingly- 
ivise!"  etc.]  "Then,"  said  he,  "you  leese,  not  alone  your 
life  the  which  you  seem  to  hold  so  light,  but  also  your 
realms,  and  your  queen!"  [Again  there  is  a  shuddering 
sensation.]  Well,  for  to  curtail  a  long  tale  short,  "Come," 
said  he,  "I  will  release  the  knight  the  which  to  deliver 
you  came,  and  suffer  you  to  depart  as  you  came  upon  cer- 
tain conditions!"  ":N'ame  them,"  said  I.  "That  you 
shall  promise  by  the  Holy  Eood  that  you  will  not  set  you 
down  to  meat  on  All-Hallowmass  until  you  shall  have 
brought  me  the  answer  to  a  rede  that  I  shall  n,ow  pro- 
pound to  you  1"     "I  assent  to  these,"  I  said ! 

[All  breathe  a  long  sigh  of  relief,  with  exclamations 
of  thankfulness  that  all  has  tamed  out  so  well.] 


Guinevere. 

Now,  scarce  can  I  wait  to  go  to  the  Minster  to  do  my 
thankings  to  God  for  such  deliverance !  .  .  .  But  the  rede, 
my  Lord !     The  rede ! 

All. 

Aye,  Sir,  the  rede! 


228  FESTIVAL  PLAYS 

Arthur. 

Well  may  you  ask !  "Wliat  is  it  that  all  women  most 
desire  ?" 

All. 

[Repeat,  as  it  were  a  lesson.]  "What  is  it  that  all 
Avomen  most  desire?" 

Guinevere. 

"What  is  it  that  all  women  most  desire  ?"  Oh,  my  dear 
love,  as  if  there  could  be  but  one  answer  to  that!  All 
women  most  desire  what  I,  most  fortunate  of  women, 
have:  A  loving  husband  which  is  also  a  true  and  faith- 
ful knight  of  worship  and  renown ! 

[Many  of  those  present  concur  in  this,  saying,  "In 
sooth  the  Queen  speaks  for  all!"  and,  "Now,  could 
there  he  two  minds  about  that!"  and,  "Gramercy, 
so  also  say  I!"  Others,  however,  differ,  murmur- 
ing, "I  doubt  that  is  right!"  and,  "What  is  truth 
for  one  may  not  be  truth  for  other!"  and  the  like. 
Guinevere  notices  this  and  exclaims,  saying]  How 
now!     It  seems  we  are  not  all  of  one  opinion! 

Dame  Laurel. 

Madam,  is  it  permitted  that  we  may  speak  freely,  each 
the  thought  in  mind? 

Guinevere. 

In  sooth,  Dame  Laurel,  I  ordain  and  command  that  ye 
do  so,  for  so  only  shall  we  arrive  at  true  conclusions ! 


THE  TESTING  OF  SIR  GAWAYNE  229 

Dame  Laukel. 

Then,  above  the  desire  of  a  woman  for  a  loving  husband 
and  worshipful  knight  do  I  set  the  desire  of  all  women 
to  be  beautiful!  [There  is  a  murmur  of  assent  from 
many.  The  Dame  continues.']  For  in  the  end  beauty 
wins  the  husband,  and  so,  possessing  one,  shall  the  woman 
be  ensured  of  both!     [This  provokes  a  general  laugh.'] 

Guinevere. 

Many  minds,  many  counsels,  it  would  seem !  Let  now 
a  clerkly  scribe  set  down  in  writing  these  divers  answers  to 
our  quest,  to  the  end  that  my  Lord  may  take  his  choice  of 
them !  [A  Scribe  prepares  to  write.  Meanwhile,  at  a 
sign  from  SiR  Kay  a  Servant  brings  food  and  wine  to  the 
King  who  sits  and  partakes  of  this.  Guinevere  continues 
her  quest.]  Our  knights  have  not  spoken!  Sir  Bors, 
what,  say  you,  do  all  women  most  desire? 

Sir  Bors. 

Madam,  I  know  not  what  all  women  do  most  desire,  but 
I  do  know  what  all  women  should  most  desire!  [There 
is  an  expectant  hush,  as  he  pauses  impressively.]  To  be 
pleasing  in  the  eyes  of  their  lords!  [This  provokes  laugh- 
ter, though  some  gentlemen  seem  to  agree  with  the 
spealcer.] 

Dame  Laurel. 

Our  thanks  to  you,  Sir  Bors ! 


280  FESTIVAL  PLAYS 

Guinevere. 
And  what  says  Sir  Bleoberis? 

Sir  Bleoberis. 

To  be  richly  beseen.  Madam;  to  be  arrayed  with  the 
goodliest  guise,  in  silk  attire,  with  precious  stones,  per- 
fumes of  sweet  savour,  and  gold  and  silver,  great  plenty, 
for  to  spend ! 

[This  is  received  with  amusement,  and  protest  from 
the  Ladies.] 

Sir  Kay. 

[Nods  assent.]  Ye  say  well!  [To  Sir  Bleoberis.] 
And  add  to  these  things,  good  cheer;  meat,  and  spiced 
drinkings,  and  sweet  eatings  out  of  measure ! 

[More  mirth,  and  renewed  protests.  Cries  of:  "Fie 
on  you,  Sir  Kay!  For  shame  for  an  ungentle 
Tonight,  Sir  Kay!  Oh,  Jcnight  of  the  discourteous 
tongue.  Sir  Kay!"  etc.] 

Guinevere. 

Meseemeth  our  faithful  Seneschal  hath  a  grutch  against 
all  ladies!  .  .  .  How  sayeth  Sir  Meliogrance? 

Sir  Meliogrance. 

Madam,  I  hold  that  all  women  in  their  hearts  crave  flat- 
tery, fair  words  and  sooth,  on  the  tongue  of  men!  [This 
also  provokes  mirth,  and  some  protest,  ivhereupon  the 
Knight  tur^is  on  the  Ladies.]  Aye,  and  is  there  one 
among  you  will  dare  gainsay  me  ? 


THE  TESTING  OF  SIR  GAWAYNE  231 

Guinevere. 

Now  we  know  wherefore  the  shield  of  Sir  Meliogrance 
is  always  kept  so  bright,  sithence  he  pays  for  gentle  service 
with  fair  words  and  sooth!  Has  any  one  withheld  coun- 
sel?    [LooJcs  about  the  group.] 

Several  Ladies. 
Sir  Gawayne !     Sir  Gawayne  has  not  spoken ! 

Sir  Gawayne. 

ISTow  by  the  faith  of  my  body  should  I  be  acquitted  of 
answer!  [This  is  greeted  with  cries  of,  "And  wherefore, 
Sir  Knight  f  on  which  Sir  Gawayne  explains,  addressing 
himself  to  the  Queen.]  Madam,  by  your  own  ordinance 
was  not  a  quest  of  these  ladies  set  upon  me,  for  my  dolo- 
rous mishap  whereby  I  slew  a  lady,  smiting  off  her  head ! 
.  .  .  And  by  their  judgment  am  not  I  upon  covenant  to 
be  courteous  to  all  ladies  and  to  fight  for  their  quarrels 
while  ever  I  shall  live? 

[This  is  received  with  some  amusement  and  with  gen- 
eral assent  to  the  justice  of  the  plea.] 

Guinevere. 

So  then,  my  good  Lord!  [She  takes  the  parchment 
from  the  Scribe  and  hands  this  to  the  King.]  Seal  with 
your  signet  and  let  send  to  the  churlish  knight  these  true 
answers  to  his  quest! 


282  FESTIVAL  PLAYS 

Arthur. 

Alas,  good  dame!  All  these  answers  and  more  did  I 
make  incontinent,  out  of  my  own  wit  and  with  such  sim- 
ple cunning  as  it  hath  pleased  Heaven  to  grant  me.  But 
.  .  .  [He  sigJis.'] 

Guinevere. 

[WUh  anxiety.]     But!     Aye,  my  good  Lord;  but? 

Arthur. 

Labour  lost  and  in  vain !  [Ali,  exclaim,  amazed.]  For 
all  my  pains,  the  outrageous  wight  put  great  rebukes  and 
mockage  on  me,  and  made  sport  at  me,  and  miscalled  me 
fool !  [This  produces  a  profound  sensation.]  And,  an  I 
bring  him  the  true  rede  or  ever  I  set  me  down  to  meat  upon 
All-Hallowmass,  my  life  is  forfeit  to  him,  and  my  lands, 
and  fairest  flower  of  my  garland,  my  Queen ! 

[Sighs,  and  exclamations  of  sorrow  are  heard  on  all 
sides.] 

The  Damosel's  Knight. 

[Weephig.]  Alas,  alas,  that  ever  such  a  captive  knight 
as  I  should  have  power  by  misadventure  to  bring  sorrow 
upon  the  greatest  king  and  most  champion  of  all  the  world ! 

Sir  Bleoberis. 

[Starting  up.]  Shall  our  worshipful  fellowship  be 
shamed  to  the  world's  end  by  a  churlish  Saracen  that  is  an 
outrageous  giant  and  no  true  knight?  Let  us  gather  a 
great  host,  well  furnished  and  garnished  of  all  manner  of 


THE  TESTING  OF  SIR  GAWAYNE  233 

things  that  belong  to  the  war,  and  let  us  do  ])attle  against 
him! 

[This  suggestion  is  greeted  with  general  acclaim.] 

Sir  Boes. 

Oh,  well  said !  And  as  ,Sir  Bleoberis  has  devised  so  let 
it  be  done! 

Sir  Meliogrance. 

Aye,  sir!  [To  Arthur.]  In  the  name  of  our  goodly 
fellowship  let  dress  forthwith  to  the  adventure ! 

The  Little  Page. 

[Casting  himself  at  Arthur's  feet.]  Oh,  Sir,  for  the 
love  of  Heaven  I  pray  you  give  me  the  order  of  knighthood 
that  I  too  may  joust  upon  this  quest ! 

Arthur. 

A  beardless  boy,  thou  art  full  young  and  tender  of  age, 
methinketh,  for  to  take  so  high  an  order  upon  thee ! 

The  Little  Page. 

Sir,  I  beseech  you!  For  leaver  would  I  be  cut  into  an 
hundred  pieces  than  that  my  Queen  should  be  devoured 
by  an  horrible  giant! 

Arthur. 

Grarnercy,  it  were  pity  to  deny  thee,  for  thou  wilt  be  a 
passing  good  man  and  fearless  knight  when  thou  comest 
to  age !     [He  draws  his  sword,  and  touches  the  lad's  shoul- 


234,  FESTIVAL  PLAYS 

ders  with  the  fiat  of  it,  saying]  In  the  name  of  high  erran- 
try, receive  now  the  knighthood  accolade !  [Then  he  raises 
the  new  Knight  to  his  feet,  and  hisses  him  on  both  cheeks, 
saying]  Eise  up,  Sir  Griflet !  See  to  it  that  ye  wear  your 
new  honours  ever  as  beseems  a  chivalrous  knight  and  hon- 
est gentleman!  And  God's  blessing  be  on  ye!  [Sir 
Griflet  bows  low,  and  returns  to  his  place  with  becoming 
dignity,  drawing  himself  up  with  great  hauteur  as  he 
passes  his  fellow  Page  ivho  before  had  mocJced  at  him. 
Arthur  now  looks  about  the  group.]  Gramercy,  there 
never  was  no  king  that  had  so  noble  knights  and  valiant 
as  have  I  ?  But  this  is  no  matter  for  deeds  of  arms !  For 
did  I  not  carry  my  sword  Excalibur,  the  which  is  the 
sharpest  and  marvelest  that  was  ever  in  any  knight's  hand ! 
It  is  only  by  miracle  that  we  can  be  delivered  from  the 
subtle  crafts  of  enchantment,  and  discover  the  true  rede  to 
the  outrageous  monster's  quest :  What  is  it  that  all  women 
most  desire? 

[A  great  sigh  goes  up  as  all  realise  the  truth  of  this.] 

Guinevere. 

[Takes  a  decision.]  Now  for  the  night  let  this  quest 
overpass!  Aye,  my  Lords  .  .  .  [Addressing  the  Knights 
u'ho  seem  to  demur.]  For  this  night  let  us  leave  of  this 
dolorous  matter!  This  night  we  will  take  our  rest,  and 
to-morrow  betimes  we  will  send  messengers  north  and 
south  and  east  and  west,  seeking  good  counsel!  Come, 
avoid !  Avoid !  To  your  chambers,  all !  And  who  knows 
but  in  a  marvelous  dream  shall  be  expounded  to  us.  What 
is  it  that  all  women  most  desire? 


THE  TESTING  OF  SIR  GAWAYNE  235 

[Talcing  Arthur  by  the  hand  she  leads  him  out. 
All  follow j  repeating  in  some  sort  the  question, 
"\Yhat  is  it  .  .  .  Gramercy,  now  what  is  it  that  all 
women  do  most  desire?"  Sir  Kay  and  the  Serv- 
ants remain,  the  former  giving  directions  for  tar- 
ring doors,  extinguishing  torches,  and  the  liTce.\ 

Sir  Kay. 
Bar  well  the  door!  [To  one  Servant.]  For,  sooth, 
this  is  the  eve  of  All-Hallowmass,  when  all  maimer  of 
strange  visitants  may  be  abroad !  .  .  .  How  now,  ye  lazy 
lusks!  [To  other  Servants  who  are  stealthily  gobbling 
up  the  leavings  of  the  King's  repast.]  Back  to  your 
kitching,  ye  turners  of  broaches  and  washers  of  dishes ! 
In  the  divil's  name  shall  ye  wax  fat  as  a  porke  hog  on  good 
browesse,  purveyance  for  a  king!  Back  to  your  kitching, 
knaves !  [In  consternation  the  Servants  mahe  their  es- 
cape, by  way  of  the  banqueting -hall.  Alone,  Sir  Kay 
loolcs  about  to  see  that  all  is  in  order,  hicTcs  a  forward  log 
into  place  upon  the  hearth,  then  stands  beside  the  chimney, 
lost  in  thought.  Speals  as  if  thinTcing  aloud.]  Wliat  is 
it  that  all  women  do  most  desire?  By  my  head  I  know 
not,  and  so  to  bed.  [He  is  about  to  go,  when  there  is  a 
knocJc  at  the  door,  at  first  timid  and  hesitating,  then  gain- 
ing strength.  The  Knight  starts.]  Now  who  may  that 
be?  [A  Shadow  noiv  crosses  the  moonlight  that  streams 
in  through  the  window,  and  a  voice  is  heard."] 

The  Voice. 
Unphut  the  door!     For  the  love  of  Heaven,  good  Sene- 
schal, unshut  the  door ! 


236  FESTIVAL  PLAYS 

Sir  Kay. 

By  the  faith  of  my  body,  'tis  a  woman ! 

The  Voice. 

Gentle  Knight  Seneschal,  of  your  charity,  unshut  the 
door ! 

Sir  Kay. 

Not  I !  For  it  was  a  gentlewoman  and  no  knight  that 
led  Adam  into  deadly  sin,  and  well  I  wot  it  is  the  foul 
fiend  himself  hath  sent  ye  hither  for  to  shame  me  in  my 
stewardship!  Aroint  thee!  Aroint  thee!  [He  malces 
the  sign  of  a  cross  in  the  air.] 

The  Voice. 
Alas!     [The  Shadow  disappears.] 

Sir  Kay.  . 

Ha!  No  fiend  in  the  guise  of  a  gentlewoman  shall  so 
mischieve  me!  [He  lays  himself  down  on  a  hench  and 
sleeps.] 

[Ejiter  Sir  Gawayne,  musing,  shield  in  one  hand,  in 
the  other  a  cloth.] 

Sir  Gawayne. 

What  is  it  that  all  women  do  most  desire  ?  Now  by  my 
knighthood  it  would  seem  a  simple  quest,  yet  it  hath  set 
the  whole  Court  by  the  ears,  and  put  the  kingdom  in  jeop- 


THE  TESTING  OF  SIR  GA WAYNE  237 

ard  .  .  .  and  the  Queen!     [He  sits  near  the  window  and 
polishes  his  shield.] 

[Guinevere  enters  in  sad  meditation.] 

Guinevere. 

What  is  it  all  women  do  most  desire?  Fair  Heaven, 
here  am  I  a  woman,  with  all  I  love  in  hazard  for  the  an- 
swer, yet  I  know  it  not!  [She  sees  Sir  Gawayne  in  the 
shadow,  and  starts,  exclaiming,  then  recognises  him,  re- 
assured.]    Sir  Gawayne ! 

Sir  Gawayne. 
[Eising.]     Madam!     Doth  aught  ail  you  or  the  King? 

Guinevere. 

Finding  my  Lord  restless  and  almost  out  of  his  mind, 
I  gave  him  a  potion  of  simples  by  which  he  fell  on  sleep ! 
But  I  ...  I  cannot  rest  for  sorrow,  when,  or  ever  the  mor- 
row is  overpassed,  we  may  all  be  chased  from  our  lands 
and  made  to  yield  to  a  great  mighty  and  outrageous  giant ! 

Sir  Gawayne. 

[Polishing  vigourously.']  It  shall  go  hard  with  the  knav- 
ish churl  or  ever  he  carries  out  his  foul  intent,  I  warrant 
you,  Madam ! 

Guinevere. 

Ah,  dear  nephew,  if  it  were  a  matter  of  prowess,  then 
should  we  be  making  great  joy  and  feasting!     But  how 


238  FESTIVAL  PLAYS 

can  fair  chivalry  prevail  against  the  wicked  crafts  of  sor- 
cery ? 

[Again  the  hnoch  at  the  door  is  heard.     Both  start 
and   exclaim.     The    Shadow   appears   again   at   the 
window.'] 

The  Voice. 

Who  dwell  herein,  I  pray  you  of  your  charity  unshut  the 
door! 

Guinevere. 

A  woman!     Seeking  shelter! 

Sir  Kay. 

[Waking,  and  realising  the  state  of  affairs.]     Madam,  I 
pray  you,  withhold,  for  well  am  I  sure  it  is  no  woman ! 

The  Voice. 

For  the  love  of  Heaven  I  pray  you  give  me  entertain- 
ment here ! 

Guinevere. 

A  very  gentlewoman!     A  well-languaged  lady! 

Sir  Kay. 
An  enchanter  and  multiplier  of  subtile  words ! 

Sir  Gawayne. 

[LooTcing  at  the  reflection  in  his  shield.]     Oh,  but  young 
and  passing  fair! 


THE  TESTING  OF  SIR  GAWAYNE  239 

Sir  Kay. 

[In  desperation.]  A  serpent !  The  divil  in  woman's 
semblance ! 

Guinevere. 

Now  in  truth,  Sir  Kay,  you  are  the  shamefulest  knight 
of  your  tongue  that  now  is  living  in  the  world,  and  an  ye 
do  not  yourself  unshut  the  door  to  this  poor  wight  then 
will  I  myself ! 

Sir  Kay. 

On  your  own  head  be  it,  then !  .  .  .  [Strides  to  the  door 
and  throws  it  wide.]  Who  stands  without,  enter,  by  ordi- 
nance of  the  Queen !  And  under  protest  from  the  Sene- 
schal! [All  watch  with  interest.  Sir  Kay  crossing  him- 
self, as  the  Stranger  enters,  showing  herself  to  he  a  woman, 
bent  and  hobbling,  close-muffled  in  scarlet  cloah  and  hood. 
Sir  Gawayne  starts,  realising  that  appearances  have  de- 
ceived him.  Sir  Kay  mutters,  mimicking  the  other.]  0 
passing  young  and  peerless  fair !  [All  hang  bach,  slightly 
fearful,  scrutinising  the  Stranger.] 

Guinevere. 

[To  Sir  Kay.]  This  is  no  beggar  asking  alms!  I 
charge  you.  Sir  Kay,  speak  fair  to  her,  and  ask  her  who 
she  may  be,  whence  come,  and  on  what  errand  ? 

Sir  Kay. 

Pray,  fair  damosel,  of  what  kin  come  ye,  and  by  what 
name  may  we  know  ye,  and  wherefore  do  you  honour  our 
poor  Court  with  your  gracious  presence? 


240  FESTIVAL  PLAYS 

The  Stranger. 

Sir  Kay,  ye  shall  hold  me  excused,  for  not  to  you  will 
I  discover  my  blood,  my  name,  and  wherefore  I  am  come ! 

Guinevere, 

Gawajne,  do  you  greet  her  and  question  her  in  seemly 
sort! 

Sir  Gawayne. 

Lady,  I  pray  you  tell  us,  who  may  ye  be,  and  whence, 
and  on  what  cause  hither  come? 

The  Stranger. 

Full  fain  will  I  answer  you,  Sir  Gawayno !  I  come  of 
a  strange  country,  and  I  am  hight  Deliverance  La  Belle 
Pilgrim,  and  I  bring  you  a  great  reward  because  you 
knew  me  to  be  young  and  passing  fair! 

Sir  Kay. 

[Laughs,  scoffing.']  Deliverance  La  Belle  Pilgrim! 
Now  on  my  head  .  .  . 

Guinevere. 

Peace,  Sir  Kay!  A  truce  to  your  mockage  and  scorn- 
ings!  ...  'T  is  but  a  poor  daffish  witless  wight!  [She 
advances  hospitably.]  Wlioever,  ye  be,  ye  are  right  heart- 
ily welcome!  Give  place,  Gawayne,  the  hearth  hereby! 
And  you,  gentle  Knight  Seneschal,  let  bring  refreshing 
of  good  meats  and  drinks! 


THE  TESTING  OF  SIR  GAWAYNE  241 

Sir  Kay. 

Now  on  my  head,  let  beggars  find  sustenance  in  the 
kitching,  nor  seek  to  fare  with  great  pride  and  bobbance 
among  their  betters!  ...  Or  let  Sir  Gawayne  serve  his 
lovely  damosel! 

Sir  Gawayne. 
Beware  what  thou  sayest  in  disworship  of  me,  or  .  .  . 

Sir  Kay. 

What,  are  ye  not  upon  covenant  sworn  never  to  refuse 
courtesy  to  lady  or  gentlewoman? 

Sir  Gawayne. 

Now  sith  ye  have  such  despite  of  me  I  require  ye  to 
joust  with  me ! 

Sir  Kay. 

Oh,  an  ye  seek  an  adventure  you  will  find  me  soonly 
ready ! 

Guinevere. 

Fie  upon  you  both!  Sir  Kay,  for  the  love  of  Heaven 
and  the  high  order  of  knighthood  forbear !  Gawayne, 
hold  thee  still  and  say  nothing! 

Sir  Gawayne. 

But,  Madam,  an  I  revenge  my  fellow  he  will  say  dis- 
honour of  me  I 


242  FESTIVAL  PLAYS 

Sir  Kay. 

I  never  was  proved  coward  of  none  earthly  knight  in 
all  my  life! 

Guinevere. 

I  beseech  of  you  both,  in  the  peril  in  which  we  now 
stand,  to  be  friends! 

Sir  Kay. 

[Reluctantly  yielding.]  I  will  hold  you  excused!  [To 
the  other  Knight.] 

Sir  Gawayne. 

[Equally  reluctant.]     All  is  pardoned  on  my  part! 

Sib  Kay. 

[With  grujf  friendliness,  laughs.]  The  lion  is  of  a 
more  gentler  nature  then  his  roaring  would  beseem! 

Sir  Gawayne. 
In  my  heart  I  thought  not  amiss  against  ye! 

The  Stranger. 

[To  the  Queen.]  Madam,  I  thank  you  of  your  great 
goodness  to  me!  In  recompensation  I  may  do  you  some 
service !  I  need  not  meat  nor  drink.  My  errand  is  with 
the  King !     I  crave  speech  with  the  King ! 

Guinevere, 
[Surprised.]     With  the  King? 


THE  TESTING  OF  SIR  GAWAYNE  243 

Sir  Kay. 

[Whispers,  to  the  Queen.]  'Ware,  now!  'T  is  the  eve 
of  All-Hallowmass ! 

Guinevere. 

Speech  with  the  King!  Good  dame,  this  would  be  a 
simple  asking,  but  my  Lord  is  now  on  sleep !  Because  he 
Avas  restless  and  full  of  heaviness  I  gave  him  a  potion, 
so  that  he  will  not  awake  till  dawning!  Not  within  three 
hours ! 

The  Stranger. 

Arthur  wakens  .  .  .  anon  he  comes  this  way! 

Sir  Kay. 

Mark  well  my  words,  a  sorcerous  witch ! 

[At  this  moment  Arthur  enters  slowly,  as  if  in  a 
trance.     All  exclaim.] 

Guinevere. 

[Goes  to  the  King.]  Dear  love,  I  left  ye  soundly 
sleeping ! 

Arthur. 

[Waking  fully,  with  a  start.]  Guinevere!  I  had  a 
marvellous  vision,  but  it  lacks  interpretation !  I  dreamed 
one  came  knocking  on  this  door  ...  a  damosel  passing 
young  and  of  peerless  loveliness  who  called  herself  De- 
liverance La  Belle  Pilgrim  .  .  .  [He  hreals  off  with  a 
start  and  a^i  exclamation,  seeing  the  Stranger,  saying,] 
By  the  faith  of  my  body,  't  is  the  loathly  lady  1 


244  FESTIVAL  PLAYS 

The  Stranger. 

God  keep  ye,  Arthur ! 

Arthur. 

God  keep  ye,  dame!  [To  the  Others  he  explains  in  an 
undertone.^  'Tis  a  witless  wight  that  I  encountered  in 
the  forest,  saying  her  prayers  between  an  oak  and  an  holly 
tree ! 

The  Stranger. 

Because  of  your  bounty  ye  gave  me  alms  and  proffered 
me  aid  when  I  called  after  ye  as  I  sat  between  oak  and 
holly  tree  I  am  come  to  do  ye  a  service,  so  that  ye  shall 
be  glad  that  ye  ever  showed  me  goodness !  .  .  .  I  would 
have  speech  with  ye  in  privity ! 

[The  Others  seem,  about  to  -protest  against  this.'] 

Arthur. 

Whatsomever  5'e  would  say,  may  not  this  be  said  in  open 
audience  ? 

The  Stranger. 

[Shakes  her  head.]  So  would  it  lose  its  helping  vir- 
tue! 

Arthur. 

[To  the  Others.]  Then,  avoid,  a  little  while!  I 
pray  you  all,  avoid!  [To  the  Queen.]  Fear  naught, 
dear  love !  An  aged  woman  pf  an  hundred  winters,  who 
knows  but  she  may  expound  my  vision,  and  discover  to  me 
what  all  women  do  most  desire! 


THE  TESTING  OF  SIR  GAWAYNE  245 

[Sir  Gawayne  gives  Itis  hand  to  Guinevere  and 
leads  her  away.] 

Sir  Kay. 

[Following,   grumhling.]     The   original   serpent!     The 

divil  himself ! 

The  Stranger. 

Sir,  the  signification  of  your  dream  is  this:  the  dragon 
betokeneth  the  giant,  being  right  horrible  and  abominable, 
whose  peer  for  outrageousness  ye  never  saw  in  all  your 
days,  and  before  the  dawning  will  he  come  knocking  on 
your  doors  to  claim  his  forfeit,  and  unless  ye  make  con- 
ditions with  me  for  the  true  answer  to  his  rede  .  .  . 

[At  this  juncture  a  terrible  roaring  is  heard  without, 
also  resounding  Mows  on  the  door.  The  Queen 
and  the  Two  Knights  come  in  running,  crying, 
"The  giant!     The  giant!"] 

Guinevere. 

[At  the  window.]  Oh,  an  outrageous  churl  seven  times 
the  height  of  mortal  man,  and  spitting  flames  of  fire  from 
his  monstrous  mouth! 

Sir  Kay. 

[Running  about,  shouting.]  Awake!  Awake!  Ho, 
there,  and  here,  awake!  Lazy  lusks,  ye  ought  to  be 
ashamed  so  to  sleep  when  knights  have  ado  in  the  field  I 

Sir  Gawayne. 

[Also  calling.]  Awake,  all  men  of  arms!  Ho,  to  the 
defence ! 


246  FESTIVAL  PLAYS 

[Great  confusion  prevails.  People  come  running 
from  all  sides,  meanivhile  the  loud  IcnocTcing  and 
shouting  is  heard  at  intervals.^ 

The  Stranger, 

In  vain !  Arms  profit  ye  naught !  He  has  yQ  at  a 
vantage ! 

The  Giant. 

[Outside.]  How  now,  King  Arthur!  What  is  it  that 
all  women  do  most  desire  ? 

Arthur. 

0  help  me,  Heaven!  What  is  it  that  all  women  do 
most  desire? 

Stranger. 
That  well  can  I  tell  to  ye ! 

Arthur. 

[Turning  to  her.]  How  now,  dame?  Beware  wliat 
thou  sayest,  for  thou  speakest  a  great  w^ord! 

The  Stranger. 

Sir,  if  God  give  me  grace  that  I  may  speed  you  well, 
delivering  you  from  this  peril,  in  recompensation  will  ye 
give  me  a  reward  that  I  will  ask  of  ye? 


THE  TESTING  OF  SIR  GAWAYNE  247 

Arthur. 

Certainly,  so  that  it  be  not  unreasonably  asked,  and 
may  be  honourably  granted.  .  .  . 

The  Stranger. 

That  is  well  said! 

Arthur. 

Speak,  then.     Name  your  petition! 

The  Stranger. 
I  will  ask  my  gift  when  I  see  my  time ! 

Arthur. 
Now,  by  my  faith,  but  this  is  emprising  an  adventure 
in  the  dark  I 

The  Giant. 

[Without]  Arthur,  for  the  second  time  of  asking, 
what  is  it  that  all  women  do  most  desire? 

[This  produces  great  general  consternation.] 

The  Stranger. 

Arthur,  for  the  second  time  of  asking  will  ye  entreat 
with  me? 

Guinevere. 

Oh,  my  dear  Lord,  for  the  love  of  Heaven,  whatsomever 
boon  the  dame  seeketh,  that  grant  to  her,  for  there  is  none 
other  remedy  in  the  peril  we  are  in ! 

[The  Giant  l-nocks  louder  than  ever.] 


248  FESTIVAL  PLAYS 

Sir  Griflet. 

[Runs  forward  with  sword  and  shield.]  How,  now, 
varlet!  [To  his  former  fellow^F age.]  Attend  me!  Ho, 
now!  On  to  the  assay!  [The  doughty  child  is  restrained 
by  a  fat  Gentlewoman.] 

The  Stranger. 

Fools,  fools  1  Your  pains  and  preparations  are  vain, 
for  the  deed  shall  never  be  achieved  but  by  me ! 

Guinevere. 

[Again  beseeching  the  King  ivho  still  deviurs.]  Dear 
love,  bethink  you  of  all  that  is  in  Jeopard :  your  kingdom, 
your  life,  and  me,  your  queen ! 

Arthur. 

[Considering  the  Stranger.]  Now,  my  heart  giveth 
me  to  thee  greatly  that  thou  art  come  on  a  good  errand, 
and  greatly  my  conceit  faileth  me  but  thou  shalt  prove 
our  true  deliverance !     Therefore  .  .  . 

The  Stranger. 

Ye  will  grant  my  boon?  Upon  covenant  .  .  .  Sworn 
upon  a  book? 

Arthur. 
By  the  faith  of  my  body  and  the  Holy  Rood ! 


THE  TESTING  OF  SIR  GA WAYNE  249 

The  STr.AXGER. 
Then  .  .  .   [Going  to  Arthur  she  wliispers  in  his  ear.] 

The  Giant. 
[Without.]      Arthur,  for  the  third  time  of  asking  .  .  . 

Arthur. 

[Breaking  into  immoderate  mirth,  on  hearing  the 
Stranger's  ivhispered  communication.]  Oh,  ho,  ho! 
Let  blow!  Let  blow!  [While  speaking  he  hastens  to  the 
window,  the  while  horns  are  blown  and  great  excitement 
prevails.]  Hark,  ye,  varlet!  Learn  now  from  Arthur 
the  true  answer  to  your  rede:  "Wliat  is  it  that  all  women 
do  most  desire?  [There  is  an  expectant  hush,  as  the 
King  pauses  before  announcing.]  Their  own  sweet  will, 
that  they  ma)-  do  in  all  things  as  they  list ! 

[Immoderate  laughter  seizes  the  assemblage,  and  all 
repeat.] 

All. 

[Stamping  about  and  slapping  knees,  etc.]  Oh,  aye ! 
All  women  do  most  desire  their  o^ti  sweet  will,  that  they 
may  do  in  all  things  as  they  list ! 

The  Giant. 

[Withoui,  unable  to  believe  his  ears.]  Eh?  Eh? 
What  word  do  I  hear? 


250  FESTIVAL  PLAYS 

All. 

[Shouting  in  concert  and  carefully  syllahling.]  All 
women  most  desire  their  own  sweet  will  that  they  may  do 
in  all  things  as  they  list! 

[At  this  The  Giant  utters  a  mighty  roar  of  wrath 
and  frustration,  and  falls  to  the  ground  with  a 
tremendous  thud;  lies  there  groaning,  and  obvi- 
ously writhing,  a  short  space,  then  with  one  final 
yell  gives  up  the  ghost.  All,  meantime,  moching 
and  ivith  ejaculations  recording  the  phases  of  his 
passing:  "Aha,  now!  How  like  you  that!  .  .  . 
Marie  hoiv  he  flames  and  smohes  ivith  wi'ath!  .  .  . 
Oh,  what  a  fall!  Almost  he  brings  doivn  the  cas- 
tle! .  .  .  Hear  him  groan!  .  .  .  Ah,  fellow;  that 
wraths  you  finely!  .  .  .  Now  he  dies!  He  dies! 
He  gives  up  the  ghost!"  They  all  dance  about,  ex- 
ulting.^ 

Guinevere. 

[Falling  on  Arthur's  necTc.]  Saved !  Now  am  I 
more  gladder  than  I  ever  was !  Oh,  my  dear  love !  Mer- 
cifully saved ! 

Arthur. 

[Embracing  her.]  Aye,  saved  indeed,  give  landings 
and  praisings  unto  God,  and  His  messenger.  La  Belle  Pil- 
grim Deliverance ! 

Guinevere. 

Aye,  soothly!  And  now  let  us  put  aside  all  sorrowful 
thoughts  and  speak  of  rejoicing!  .  .  .  Sir  Kay,  good 
Knight  Seneschal,  let  make  a  great  feast!     Let  there  be 


THE  TESTING  OF  SIR  GAWAYNE  251 

harping    and    minstrelsy !  .  .  ,  Let    ceremony    be    over- 
passed, and  all  make  good  cheer! 

All. 

[Excited.]     Aye;  a  feast!     A  feast! 

[Harpings  and  song  are  heard  in  the  hanqueting- 
hall,  and  in  joyous  confusion  the  Lords  and  La- 
dies repair  thither.] 

Arthur. 

[Offering  his  hand  to  the  Straxger.]     Lady! 

The  Straxger. 

First,  Sir  King,  as  I  have  done  well  by  ye  and  holpen 
ye  out  of  the  peril  in  which  ye  stood,  I  require  of  ye  my 
reward ! 

Arthur. 

Require  or  desire  of  me  anything,  dame !  I  wot  not 
what  your  will  is,  but  howbeit  I  promised  ye  largely,  what- 
somever  ye  demand  ye  shall  have  it  without  any  fail ! 

The  Stranger. 

Then  do  I  ask  a  noble  knight  and  full  of  prowess  to 
take  and  wed  me  unto  his  wife ! 

Arthur  axd  Guixevere. 
[Start,  amazed.]     Good  dame!     What  words  are  these? 


252  FESTIVAL  PLAYS 

Arthur. 
Ye  ask  a  Kniglit  for  husband !     Now,  on  my  head — ! 

Guinevere. 

A  damosel  of  an  hundred  years  of  age,  would  ye  not 
do  better  to  let  make  yourself  a  nun,  and  wear  white 
clothes  and  black,  and  end  your  days  in  alms'  deeds  and 
prayers  and  fastings  in  an  abbey? 

The  Stranger. 
I  require  upon  covenant  that  ye  grant  my  will ! 

Arthur. 

Aye,  dame;  what  the  King  hath  promised  on  his  avows 
shall  not  be  gainsayed !  .  .  .  Ho,  Sir  Knights:  Sir  Kay, 
Sir  Bors  and  Sir  Bleoberis,  Sir  Gawayne  and  Sir  Melio- 
grance,  and  all  the  worshipful  company!  [The  Knights 
come  hastening  from  the  hanqueting-hall,  the  Ladies 
also.']  AYhieh  of  ye  will  emprise  an  adventure  of  passing 
peril?  [The 'K'^iGiiTS  press  forward  eagerly,  saying:  "I, 
Sir  King!  .  .  .  Sir,  I  am  your  fellow!  .  .  .  Oh,  my  liege, 
choose  me!  .  .  .  Nay,  then;  me!"  The  King,  however, 
finds  it  hard  to  hreah  the  news.]  It  is  required  of  us  upon 
covenant,  in  recompensation  for  our  deliverance  that  one 
of  ye  .  .  .  Oh,  how  can  I  say  the  word !  .  .  .  that  one  of 
ye  shall  take  and  wed  this  dame  unto  his  wife! 

[A  horrified  exclamation  goes  up  from  the  Knights 
on  this,  while  the  Ladies  seetn  inclined  to  laugh.] 


THE  TESTING  OF  SIR  GAWAYNE  253 

Sir  Boes. 

Is  not  this  questing  in  the  dark?  Will  not  the  lady 
show  us  her  visage? 

Arthur. 

Unwimple  your  visage,  dame! 

[Turning  her  face  to  the  window ^  the  Stranger 
raises  her  hood  for  a  few  seconds.  All  crowd  for- 
ward to  gaze  on  her,  then  turn  away,  the  men  with 
suppressed  horror  and  the  women  with  ill-sup- 
pressed mirth.  Exclamations  rise  from  all  sides: 
"Oh,  what  an  unlovely  lady!  .  .  .  By  my  soul,  a 
loathly  lady!"] 

Sir  Meliogrance. 

[His  voice  quahing  with  fear.]  Is  there  no  way  but 
this?  Leaver  would  I  shed  the  best  blood  of  my  body 
than  .  .  .  than  .  .  .  [BreaTcs  off,  stammering,  not  wish- 
ing to  he  rude.] 

Arthur. 

There  is  none  other  way ! 

Sir  Bors. 

I  am  hors  de  combat!  Already  is  my  troth  plighted  to 
...  to  ...  to  several  ladies ! 

Sir  Bleoberis. 
[Hastily.]     And  mine!     To  the  same  ladies! 


254  FESTIVAL  PLAYS 

The  Other  Knights. 
Cowards !     Cowards ! 

Sir  Griflet. 

[Runs  forward  and  casts  himself  at  Arthur's  feet.] 
Sir,  I  never  yet  applied  me  to  be  married,  but  an  it  please 
ye,  I  will  win  worship  in  this  wise ! 

[All     the    Ladies     w.urmur    admiringly,,     "Gallant 
child!"] 

Arthur. 

Else,  Sir  Griflet!  This  adventure  is  for  your  elders 
.  .  .  your  betters  could  not  be!  .  .  .  Sir  Kay  .  .  . 

Sir  Kay. 

[Hurriedly.]  This  is  matter  for  Sir  Gawayne!  [This 
is  greeted  with  a  slight  general  exclamation;  the  Knight 
continues.]  For  the  slaying  of  a  lady  by  misadventure 
and  smiting  off  her  head  is  he  not  sworn  upon  the  Four 
Evangelists  never  to  refuse  courtesy  to  lady  ne  gentle- 
woman so  long  as  he  shall  live? 

[All  the  Knights  heartily  assent  to  this.] 

Sir  Gawayne. 

Now  by  faith  of  my  body  ... 

All  the  Knights. 

[Hurriedly.]  Aye !  Sir  Gawayne  is  the  fellow  for  this 
adventure! 


THE  TESTING  OF  SIR  GAWAYNE  255 

Guinevere. 

[Imploring,  hands  out  to  him.]  Dear  nephew  .  .  . 
for  the  love  of  the  high  order  of  knighthood,  assent  to 
this,  I  beseech  ye! 

Sir  Ga WAYNE. 

[After  a  paiise.]     I  assent  me! 

[A  sigh  of  relief  goes  zip  from  all  sides.] 


Arthur. 

Truly,  nephew,  ye  have  a  mighty  heart!  [He  presents 
the  Stranger  to  the  Knight.]  Take  her,  and  God  be 
your  speed ! 

Guinevere. 

[To  the  assembled  people.]     Avoid!     Avoid!    Together 
will  they  be  more  at  their  hearts'  ease !     [All  go.     The 
Queen  continues,  addressing  the  Stranger.]     Lady,  we 
will  make  ready  in  the  goodliest  wise  that  may  be  devised 
for  the  betrothal  feast!     [She  and  the  King  also  go.] 
[Left  together  Gawayne  and  Deliverance  gaze  on 
one  another,   then,  involuntarily,   the   young   man 
turns  away  and  covers  his  face  with   his  hands. 
He  then  resumes  his  interrupted  task  of  polishing 
his  shield.     The  Lady  goes  to  him  with  a  hrisker 
step  than  we  have  yet  seen  her  employ,  and  touches 
him  on  the  shoulder.     With  a  start  and  an  ejacu- 
lation he  looks  up  at  her  hopefully.] 


256  FESTIVAL  PLAYS 

Sir  Ga WAYNE, 

Gramercy!  The  face  in  the  shield!  ...  Ah!  [He 
sighs  heavily.]  'T  was  but  a  trick  of  fantasy!  Woven 
of  moonlight  and  dawn!     [He  goes  on  polishing.] 

Deliverance. 
Pluck  up  heart.     All  may  yet  be  well! 

Sir  Gawatne. 

All  is  well,  madam.  [He  rises.]  An  ye  have  no  com- 
mands for  me  I  will  go  make  me  ready  in  seemly  sort  for 
our  betrothal ! 

Deliverance. 

Eather  abide,  and  suffer  me  to  do  thankings  unto  thee, 
for  much  have  ye  done  for  me !  An  ye  wist  how  ye  have 
holpen  a  dolorous  lady ! 

Sir  Gawayne. 

I  but  stand  upon  my  knighthood,  madam!  [He  is 
about  to  go,  when  there  enters,  confronting  him,  a  young 
and  gallant  Knight,  in  full  armour.  Gawayne  stops 
short,  staring  at  him.]  Now,  by  my  head  .  .  .  the  face 
I  saw  in  my  shield !  [He  passes  a  hand  over  his  puzzled 
brow.]     Of  whence  be  ye,  and  how  called? 

The  Knight  [Delivere]. 
I  am  extract  of  noble  blood.     I  am  hight  Delivere!     I 
am  brother  to  this  lady! 


THE  TESTING  OF  SIR  GAWAYNE  257 

Sir  Ga WAYNE. 

Brother  to  .  .  .  !  [He  looks  from  one  to  the  other, 
incredulous.] 

Delivere. 

[Corroborating  his  own  assertion.]  To  Deliverance  La 
Belle  Pilgrim! 

Sir  Gawayne. 

Now  by  my  head  you  speak  a  great  wonder! 

Delivere. 

By  the  crafts  of  sorcery  I  was  turned  into  the  outrage- 
ous giant,  keeping  the  evil  customs  whereby  Arthur  and 
his  Court  were  put  in  jeopard !  My  sister  alone  knew  the 
true  answer  to  my  rede,  but  none  could  learn  it  or  ever 
a  worshipful  knight  should  premise  to  take  and  wed 
her  unto  his  wife!  In  this  ye  stand  a  proved  knight  of 
matchless  chivalry!  But  an  ye  would  save  yourself  un- 
shamed  from  this  marriage,  come  and  joust  with  me ! 

Sir  Gawayne. 

[With  a  cry  of  joy.]  Now  Heaven  be  praised,  right 
glad  and  blithe  am  I,  for  liefer  an  hundred  times  would  I 
die  with  fighting  worship  than  live  with  wedded  woe ! 
Come,  Sir  Knight,  to  the  assay,  and  spare  me  not,  for  I 
warn  thee  I  will  not  spare  thee !  Come  and  prove  who 
will  be  first  to  say  Ho!  [Deliverance,  who  has  hobbled 
bach  to  the  hearth,  cowers  in  her  chair,  moaning.] 
"Now  am  I  the  wofuUest  lady  of  the  world!"'\  Now 
wherefore  this  dolorous  moaning? 


258  FESTIVAL  PLAYS 

Deliverance. 

I  require  thee,  good  knight,  as  thou  art  a  gentleman, 
not  to  gainsay  your  avows  to  me ! 

SiE  Gawayne. 

[Paiises  irresolute.']  Now  was  ever  kniglit  in  euch 
plight,  between  fire  and  water  as  it  might  be! 

Deliveee. 
Coward !     Coward ! 

Sir  Gawayne. 

[Starting  to  go  to  him.]  Now  by  the  faith  of  my  body 
never  will  I  yield  me  nor  say  the  Ipth  word ! 

Deliverance. 

Traitor !     Traitor ! 

Sir  Gawayne. 

[Stopping  short.]  Now  by  the  Four  Evangelists  .  .  . 
[He  takes  a  sudden  decision,  and  goes  toward  his  hride.] 
Lady,  love  is  free  in  himself,  and  never  will  be  bound, 
but  I  shall  be  your  servant  and  knight  in  right  and  wrong, 
and  I  shall  never  fail  you  to  dp  as  much  as  a  knight  may 
do,  and  I  promise  you  faithfully  that  I  shall  be  all  the 
days  of  my  life  your  knight ! 

Delivere, 
Coward ! 


^:  h:.\ 


n--i\  ii, 


3«._ 


\      I 


\\ 


\:a 


\ 


:AM 


■^feg^^  ^^Brei**^ 


"Look,  Sir  Knight !  Behold  the  visage  of  your  bride !" 


THE  TESTING  OF  SIR  GAWAYNE  259 

Sir  Ga WAYNE. 

Not  so,  Sir  Beliverei,  for,  God  wot,  I  have  chosen  the 
more  perilous  part! 

Deliverance. 

Now  this  gladdeth  well  my  heart,  for  so  have  ye  de- 
livered me  from  the  bondage  of  enchantment!  Look, 
Sir  Knight!  Behold  the  visage  of  your  bride!  [Stand- 
ing erect,  and  throwing  hack  her  hood  she  discloses  the 
countenance  of  a  young  woman  of  great  beauty.] 

Sir  Gawatne. 

[With  a  cry  of  great  joy.]  Lady!  The  damosel  I  saw 
in  my  shield  ...  all  passing  young  and  peerless  fair! 
.  .  .  Sir  Knights  and  Ladies !  [He  goes  toward  the  han- 
queting-hall,  calling:]  Come,  and  witness  a  great  mar- 
vel! [All  come  in,  in  great  excitement,  and  from  the 
other  direction  come  the  King  and  Queen,  with  their 
attendants,  bringing  a  rich  robe  and  sparMing  jewels  for 
the  bride.  Excitedly  Sir  Gawayne  invites  their  atten- 
tion to  Deliverance.]  Behold  my  bride  .  .  .  the  damo- 
sel I  saw  anon,  all  passing  young  and  peerless  fair! 
[But,  even  as  he  had  turned  from  her.  Deliverance  drew 
her  hood  over  her  head,  wrapped  her  mantle,  huddling, 
about  her  bent  shoulders,  and  relapsed  into  the  form  of 
an  aged  crone.     All  look  amazed.] 

Sir  Kay. 

[TaTces  her  by  the  arm  and  turns  her  toward  the  light, 
then  bursts  into  great  laughter.]     By  my  head,  he's  clean 


260  FESTIVAL  PLAYS 

out  of  his  wits!  .  .  .  Passing  fair?     The  loathly  lady! 
[All  echo  this,  and  troop  off,  mocking  Sir  Gawayne.] 

Guinevere. 

[\Yho  with  the  King  remains.]  The  unlovely  lady,  the 
loathly  lady  passing  fair  ?  Poor,  poor  gentleman !  He  is 
under  the  spell  pf  a  dolorous  enchantment! 

Arthur. 
Pray  Heaven  he  may  never  get  well  of  it! 

Sir  Gawayne. 

[Sternly,  to  his  bride.]  What  means  this:  now  young 
and  fair,  now  old  and  wizened  ?     This  is  no  stability ! 

Deliverance. 

Alas,  dear  love!  The  spell  is  still  on  me,  whereby  I 
may  be  young  and  fair  to  you  alone,  and  old  and  bent  in 
company ;  or  young  and  fair  in  cpmpany,  and  old  and  bent 
to  you  alone!     It  is  for  you  to  choose! 

Sir  Gawayne. 

Oh,  what  a  burden  is  thrust  upon  me !  Alone  with  you 
to  enjoy  your  delectable  beauty,  and  in  company  to  en- 
dure the  tauntings  and  mockage  of  men  ...  or  in  com- 
pany to  have  the  envy  of  all  for  my  lovely  bride,  and 
alone  with  you  to  discover  a  loathly  crone  of  an  hundred 
years  of  age !  [He  groans,  throwing  himself  into  a  chair 
and  covering  his  face.] 


THE  TESTING  OF  SIR  GAWAYNE  261 

Delivere. 

[Sharpli/.]     Choose  ye  now,  or  look  well  to  yourself! 

Sir  Gawayne. 

Leave  that,  Sir  Delivere!  .  .  .  {He  goes  to  Deliver- 
ance.] I  give  it  to  thee,  for  my  wedding-gift,  the  thing 
that  all  women  do  most  desire  .  .  .  your  own  will  in  this 
affair,  to  do  as  you  may  list ! 

Deliverance. 

[Casting  aside  her  mantle  and  throwing  up  her  arms 
with  a  great  cry  of  joy.]  Oh,  landings  and  praisings  to 
Heaven,  for  now  is  my  cup  of  happiness  brim-filled  and 
running  over !  .  .  .  Sir  Gawayne,  ye  have  passed  the  third 
and  last  test  of  chivalry,  and  so  have  delivered  me  for- 
ever from  the  crafts  of  sorcery! 

Sir  Gawayxe. 

[Overjoyed,  almost  in  a  ivhisper.]  What!  Is  it  true? 
Ye  are  all  fair  for  all  times,  in  company  and  for  me  alone  ? 

Delivere, 

It  is  true!  She  is  a  full  fair  maid,  good  and  gentle, 
and  right  well  taught,  so  may  each  love  other  entirely ! 
[Arthur  and  Guinevere,  who  were  standing  at  a  dis- 
tance, have  joined  the  group,  attracted  hy  Deliv- 
erance's cry,  and  now  offer  their  felicitations. 
Guinevere  kisses  the  hride,  and  places  a  jewel  in 
her  lovely  hair  and  a  chain  about  her  fair  neck.] 


262  FESTIVAL  PLAYS 

Arthur. 

[To  the  two  Servants,  who  stand  at  the  entrance  to  the 
banqueting-hall.]  Let  blow!  Let  blow!  [At  a  bugle 
blast  from  these  All  enter  hurriedly.  The  King  addresses 
them.']  Now  is  greater  worship  than  ever  before  won 
to  our  goodly  fellowship,  sithence  our  dear  nephew 
Sir  Gawayne  hath  passed  the  third  and  final  test  of  chiv- 
alry! 

[All  exclaim  rejoicing.] 

Sir  Kay. 
But  .  .  .  where  is  the  loathly  lady? 

All. 

Aye,  where  is  the  unlovely  lady  ...  the  loathly  lady? 

Arthur. 

Yon  stands  she,  freed  forever  from  the  evil  spell  of 
sorcery!  And  by  the  faith  of  my  body  I  do  think  she 
is  the  fairest  lady  of  the  world  but  if  it  were  Queen 
Guinevere ! 


A  CHRISTMAS  PARTY 

Christmas 


Characters 

Three  Lobs,  Loh  here,  Loh  there,  Lob  everywhere. 

Three  Present-day  Children:  Ethel  who  is  called 
Bars,  Janet  called  Beeswax,  and  Richard  called 
Dick. 

Some  Children  of  History  and  Fable,  including 
Christopher  Columbus,  Peter  Schlemihl,  Sleep- 
ing Beauty  and  Napoleon. 

Santa  Claus. 

The  Father  and  Mother. 


A  CHRISTMAS  PARTY 

Before  the  curtains  part  the  voice  of  the  Mother  is 
heard  singing  her  babes  to  sleep  with  A  Christmas  Even- 
song. 

At  Bethlehem  beneath  the  hill 

Where  herded  sheep  lay  slumber-still. 

All  wrapped  in  snowy  fleece. 

Within  a  humble  khan,  where  lay 

A  band  of  farers  on  their  way. 

Was  born  the  Prince  of  Peace, 

Prince  of  Peace! 

Then  from  the  wakened  skies  there  came 

A  wonder-song,  a  starry  flame. 

By  star  and  song  to  tell 

That  prince's  hall  or  wayside  khan 

Shall  Heaven  be,  when  child  of  man 

Is  child  of  God  as  well! 

God  as  well ! 

The  angels  sing  to-day,  as  then, 

God's  peace  on  earth,  goodwill  to  men 

His  pledge  divine  who  keep. 

And  by  the  tower  on  the  hill 

Lo !     Christ  the  Shepherd  watches  still, 

So,  lambkins,  go  to  sleep! 

Go  to  sleep! 

265 


266  FESTIVAL  PLAYS 

The  curtains  have  parted  slowly,  noiselessly,  disclosing 
a  room  in  such  deep  shadow  that  only  by  peering  can  one 
discern  three  small  white  beds  far  up  against  the  wall  of 
a  real  everyday  nursery,  a  companionable  fire  purring  on 
the  hearth,  and  a  real  everyday  Mother,  the  kind  every 
happy  child  knows,  sitting  singing.  When  her  song  is 
ended  she  rises,  bends  over  the  pillows,  nods  as  if  satis- 
fied that,  though  three  soft,  warm  little  bodies  lie  snugly 
tucked  in  between  sheets  and  blankets,  the  Children  them- 
selves have  gone  off  on  their  nightly  journey,  to  Sleep, 
smoothes  a  coverlet  in  the  quite  unnecessary  way  that 
Mothers  have,  draws  a  screen  about  the  beds  to  keep  out 
the  draught  that  growns-up  always  think  is  trying  to  get 
at  children,  but  that  in  reality  could  not  be  coaxed  to  stay 
in  a  house  with  all  outdoors  to  play  in,  then,  going  to 
the  hearth,  she  seizes  the  poker,  and  in  a  fashion  rather 
violent  for  so  gentle  a  being,  she  beats  the  reddest  of  the 
logs  until  it  sneezes  sparks,  as  if  to  caution  it  against 
breaking  out  in  greedy  flames  that  make  everything  within 
reach  catch  fire  like  measles.  Finally,  since  there  is  not 
the  least,  wee  excuse  for  further  lingering,  she  kisses  her 
hand  to  the  forms  of  the  Children  who  by  this  time  are 
very  far  away,  and  steals  noiselessly  from  the  room. 

The  fire  goes  out  with  a  disgruntled  pop,  as  if  remark- 
ing that  it  has  no  desire  to  remain  where  it  is  npt  trusted 
to  behave  itself,  and  the  room  becomes  so  dark  you  think 
it  is  all  over,  and  that  it  is  not  much  of  a  play  after  all, 
when,  hark!  You  hear  the  jingle  of  sleigh-bells,  and 
the  laughter  of  a  merry  party  passing  by.  Now  the  warm 
glow  returns  slowly  to  the  hearth  and  the  logs  start  talk- 
ing.    "Crack,  crack!     Splutter,  splutter,"  cries  one,  turn- 


A  CHRISTMAS  PARTY  267 

ing  its  torch  in  the  direction  of  the  book-shelvea. 
"What's  all  this  learned  nonsense  ?  Works  on  botany,  and 
what's  that  long  word  ?  Yes,  ornithology !  Wliy  don't 
they  say  birds  and  beasts  and  flowers  and  forests  and 
things?  And  why  go  to  books  to  learn  when  one  has 
eyes  and  ears  .  .  .  five  senses,  all  told,  and  a  sixth,  if 
people  did  but  know  it !" 

"Stupid  as  a  log,"  cries  another.  "That's  what  I  over- 
heard a  teacher  call  a  boy  whose  poor  little  body  was  kept 
in  a  schoolroom  while  its  soul  had  its  arms  about  my  neck, 
learning  True  History,  and  the  Eeal  Meaning  of  Things, 
in  the  forest!  For  my  part,  at  the  risk  of  seeming  vain 
I  consider  a  log  the  brightest  thing  I  know !" 

"Eight,  0,"  concurred  a  third.  "Eeally  human  beings 
are  the  dullest  creatures!  probably  because  someone  in- 
vented words  for  them  to  talk  with !  Now  if  you're  seek- 
ing a  professor  of  language  let  me  recommend  the  head 
of  the  squirrel  family  that  used  to  be  my  top-front  lodg- 
ers. He  could  chatter  more  fluently  about  a  hazel-nut 
without  articulating  a  single  word  than  any  human  that 
has  addled  his  brains  getting  an  University  diploma!"      - 

"True,"  replied  the  first  speaker."  And  the  longer  hu- 
mans live  in  the  world  the  duller  they  become  from  read — 
read — reading,  and  talk — talk — talking  words,  words, 
words,  words,  words!  Now  take  babies.  Babies  are  the 
wise  ones.  Babies  who  cheep  like  birds  when  pleased  and 
squeal  the  way  little  pigs  do  when  they  are  hungry  can  al- 
ways be  depended  on  to  make  their  meaning  understood! 
Nobody  has  to  consult  a  dictionary  or  employ  an  interpre- 
ter to  hold  a  conversation  with  a  baby  in  any  language ! 
Old  people,  too,  when  they  lose  their  teeth  and  forget 


268  FESTIVAL  PLAYS 

words,  they  grow  wise  again!  What  a  pleasure  it  is  to 
burn  brightly  for  old  people  as  they  sit  beside  the  hearth, 
warming  their  hearts,  and  telling  them  over  and  over  again 
the  forgotten  tales  they  heard  from  us  before  their  wits 
were  cluttered  up  with  words  like  rank  growths  of  under- 
brush in  the  forest!" 

All  paused  a  moment  to  reflect  on  this  fine  sentiment, 
when  a  log  at  the  back  of  the  pile  that  had  hitherto  held 
itself  aloof,  rolled  up  in  a  ragged  cloak  of  charred  bark, 
now  turned  over  with  a  snort,  falling  on  the  others  heav- 
ily. "The  forest,  indeed !  Landlubbers  all !  I  have  been 
to  sea!  I  have  been  shipwrecked!  I  have  stood  on  my 
head  and  turned  somersaults  in  mid-ocean!"  And  he 
stuck  out  his  tongue,  sending  forth  darts  of  the  most 
wonderful  green  and  blue.  Thoroughly  roused  now,  the 
logs  all  talk  at  the  same  time,  bragging  of  their  adven- 
tures and  of  the  family  trees  from  which  they  have  sprung, 
and  there's  no  knowing  how  it  would  end  if  it  were  not 
that  some  people  passing  sing  a  snatch  of  an  old  Christ- 
mas Carol,  a  great  favourite  with  the  hearth-logs,  so  that 
they  cease  wrangling  to  listen  to  it. 

Carol,  carol.  Christian ! 

Carol,  carol  joyfully ! 

Carol  for  the  coming  of  Christ's  nativity! 


Go  ye  to  the  forest 

Where  the  myrtles  grow. 

Where  the  pine  and  laurel  bend  beneath  the  snow ! 


A  CHRISTMAS  PARTY  269 

Gather  them  for  Jesus, 

Wreathe  them  for  his  shrine, 

Make  his  temple  glorious  with  the  box  and  vine ! 


Now  there  is  dead  silence  in  the  nursery  which  soon  is 
filled  with  a  strange  light  made  up  of  hearth-glow,  moon- 
beam and  the  blueness  that  only  comes  from  fairyland. 
For  the  first  time  you  notice  that  the  Children  have  hung 
their  stockings  from  the  mantelpiece.  Then  you  see, 
asleep  on  the  hearthrug,  three  small  brown  beings,  each 
cuddling  a  broom,  by  which  token  you  know  them  to  be 
the  Good  Little  People  who  make  their  home  with  happy 
Children,  called  Lobs  for  short,  though  if  ever  you  ad- 
dress one  by  his  full  title  you'll  say  Lob-Lie-By-The-Fire. 


First  Lob. 
[Waking,  stirs.]     Pray  is  it  time? 

Second  Lob. 

[WaMng,  turns.']     Eh?     Time?     'T  is  always  time. 
Is  ever  there  a  time  when  't  is  not  time? 

First  Lob. 

I  mean,  is  it  the  hour  for  chanticleer 
To  crow  the  sun  up.  Lob  to  vanish? 


270  FESTIVAL  PLAYS 

Second  Lob. 

Nay ! 
So  warm  the  hearth,  so  bright  the  embers  glow, 
The  night  must  still  be  young!     Sleep  out  your  sleep, 
And  let  me  do  the  same!     [Droivsily.] 

First  Lob. 

Brother,  no  work 
Ts  there  for  us  to-night  as  usual 
In  redding  up  the  place  ? 

Second  Lob. 

'T  is  Christmas  Eve! 
A  holiday!     Our  task  comes  later.     Scraps 
And  string  and  littered  paper,  leaves  that  dry 
And  crackling  fall  from  holly  boughs,  burnt-out 
The  candles  on  the  Tree,  soon  will  our  hands 
With  these  be  full! 

[He  turns  over  and  hums  droiusily.] 
Lob  here,  Lob  there. 
Lob  everywhere  1 

Lob,  sweep  the  hearth  and  mend  the  toys, 
Lob,  do  the  tasks  of  girls  and  boys, 
Who  would  not  be  a  Lob  like  me, 
A  merry  Lob-lie-by-the-fire  like  me! 
[Again  there  is  silence.     The  mysterious  light  which 
we  now  see  proceeds  from  the  night-light  in  the 
corner  grows  brighter.     One  of  the  children,  Dick, 
proiahhj,  says  something  in  his  sleep.] 


A  CHRISTMAS  PARTY  271 

Third  Lob. 
[Starting  up.]     What's  that? 

Second  Lob. 

What's  what? 

Third  Lob. 

Surely 
Someone  said  something ! 

Second  Lob. 

Someone  I  could  name 
Said  something!     If  someone  would  learn  to  say 
A  trifle  less,  do  more,  't  were  better  far 
For  someone ! 

Dick. 

Bells !     His  flying  reindeer  cleave 
The  crystal  air,  shaking  the  golden  stars 
Out  of  their  sockets,  scattering  their  dust 
All-sparkling  on  the  snow!     Oh,  listen! 

Third  Lob. 

Hark! 
The  children  wake !     And  we  still  here ! 

Second  Lob. 

Why  not? 
A  nosey  dog,  the  household  cat  with  brains 
In  every  whisker-tip,  on  friendly  terms 


272  FESTIVAL  PLAYS 

With  these  't  were  best  to  be,  I  grant  you.     But 
A  dull-sensed  human  child  between  whose  feet 
We  sweep  unheeded  shall  we  fear? 

Third  Lob. 

Only  ■■* 

On  Christmas  Eve  when  fairy-tales  come  true ! 

Second  Lob. 

0  wise  the  word!     Come,  brother;  wake!      [He  pokes  the 
First  Lob  with  his  hroom.] 

First  Lob. 

Let  be ! 
I'm  weary!     [The  Children  now  are  heard,  yawning  and 
stretching.     He  starts  up.]     Eh?  What's  this?     That 
rowdy  horde 
Of  heavy-footed  Children,  coming  back 
Like  runaways  deserting  school,  before 
Dawn  and  the  birds,  from  Sleep !     0  trespassers 
Upon  our  ancient  province  of  the  night ! 

[The  Children  come  pattering  toward  the  hearth 
dragging  on  their  dressing-gowns  over  their  night- 
gowns.] 

Dick. 
I'm  sure  I  heard  him  ! 


A  CHRISTMAS  PARTY  273 


Babs, 


Nonsense,  Dick.     For,  see! 
Unfillea  our  stockings  from  the  mantel  hang, 
Dangling  as  when  we  left  them  for  him ! 

Dick. 

Oh! 
You  do  not  think  he  can  have  passed  us  by? 
0  Santa  Claus,  come  back ! 

Beeswax. 

[Catching  sight  of  the  Three  Lobs,  who  stand,  hrooms 
shouldered,  guarding  the  hearth.]     Oh,  look!     Dick, 
Babs !     Just  look  ! 
Three  wee  brown  men  with  brooms!     [She  approaches 
THE  Lobs.] 

I  know  you!     Yes, 
I've  read  about  you  in  a  picture-book! 
You're  Lobs! 

First  Lob. 

[Saluting.]     Lob  here! 

Second  Lob. 

[Saluting.]     Lob  there! 

Third  Lob. 
[Saluting.]     Lob  everywhere! 


274  FESTIVAL  PLAYS 

Dick  and  Babs. 

[ExGited.]     What!     Real  Lobs?     Alive? 

The  Lobs. 

[Laugh    derisively.]     0    silly    ones!     Whoever   heard    of 

Lobs 
Unreal,  not  alive?     [They  dance  about,  singing.] 

Lob  here,  Lob  there.  Lob  everywhere, 

Lob  sweep  the  hearth.  Lob  mend  the  toys. 

Lob  do  the  tasks  of  girls  and  boys ! 

Who  would  not  be  a  Lob  like  me! 

A  merry  Lob-lie-by-the-fire  like  me! 

Babs. 

I'm  charmed  to  meet  you.     Make  yourselves  at  home! 

-    The  Lobs. 

We  are  at  home.     We  live  here !     But,  pray  you 
Feel  quite  at  home ! 

The  Children. 

In  our  own  home  of  course 
At  home  we  feel !     We  live  here ! 

,  The  Lobs. 

Just  by  day ! 
By  night  when  you  go  off  to  sleep  the  place 
Is  ours! 


A  CHRISTMAS  PARTY  275 


^FiEST  Lob. 

But,  Christmas  Eve,  a  holiday, 
As  guests  we  welcome  you.     Our  hearth-fire  share ! 

Second  and  Third  Lobs. 

Pray  do  so!     [With  a  gesture  inviting  the  Children  to 
sit.] 

The  Children. 

Thank  you.  Lobs !     How  kind  they  are.     [All  sit.] 

Babs. 

I'm  Ethel,  Babs  for  short,  since  I  myself 
Was  short  to  start  with,  when  a  baby ! 


First  Lob. 

Oh, 
I  know  you,  Babs.     Still  short  sometimes  in  marks 
At  school,  I  fear!     However  you  mean  well!; 

Beeswax. 

Xamed  Janet,  Beeswax  am  I  called,  because 
So  tidy  am  I ! 

Second  Lob. 

[With  a  hurst  of  laughter.]     Tidy?     Ha,  ha,  ha  1 
Behold  who  overnight  fulfills  the  tasks 
Undone  that  Beeswax  leaves !     However  well 
You  mean,  and  so  I  grumble  not! 


> 


276  'ESTIVAL  PLAYS 

Dick. 

[To  the  Third  Lob.]     And  you 
My  lessons  for  me  learn,  no  doubt  you'll  say? 


Third  Lob. 

No,  Richard,  no !     My  best  I  do,  but  you 
Are  lazy!     Well  you  mean,  however,  so 
We'U  let  it  pass! 

Dick. 

'  [Listens.]     What's  Billy  barking  for?     [He  explains  to 

THE  Lobs.] 
Billy's  our  dog! 

The  Lobs. 

[Correcting  Mm.]     By  day!     But  after  dark 
Our  dog  is  Billy ! 

Dick. 


Well,  your  dog  or  ours, 
Billy  is  barking!     Yet  in  friendly  wise. 
As  greeting  someone!     Listen!     [He  starts  up.]     There 
are  steps 
QfiXA-         ^  Upon  the  stairs,  above,  and  roundabout! 

Beeswax. 

I  also  hear  them!     Little  footfalls  light 
As  snowflakes ! 


A  CHRISTMAS  PARTY  277 

Babs. 

Pat-pat-pattering  this  way 
They  come!     [All  have  risen  from  the  hearthrug  where 
they  have  been  sitting,  to  listen.'] 

JL 

The  Lobs. 

[Explaining.]     'T  is  but  the  children  of  the  house 
At  play! 

The  Children. 

[Puzzled]     But  we  the  children  of  the  house 
Are  surely! 

The  Lobs. 

[Explaining.]     Daytime  calls  you  so !     But  night 
The  gate  sets  wide  for  Children  of  the  Past, 
All  children  that  have  ever  been,  to  roam 
At  pleasure,  enter  where  they  will! 

Beeswax. 

[Clasping  her  hands  in  ecstasy.]     In  here 
Their  little  feet  have  sometimes  wandered?     Oh, 
I  wish  .  .  .  Oh,  how  I  wish  that  I  might  see. 
Might  speak  with,  play  with  them ! 

FiKST  Lob. 

Call  them  by  name! 
If  lovingly,  I'll  answer  for  't,  they'll  come ! 


278  FESTIVAL  PLAYS 

Babs. 

I'll  choose! 

Dick. 
No.    I  will! 

Beeswax. 

I  spoke  first!     Oh,  hush!     [She  listens.] 
Fleeing,  their  footsteps  turn  the  other  way ! 
Oh,  Children,  stay! 

Second  Lob. 

Never  where  wrangling  jars 
They  enter.     Only  where  love  reigns! 

Babs. 

Then  I 
Give  up  to  Beeswax. 

Beeswax. 

I  to  Dick ! 

Dick. 

And  I 
To   hoth !  .  .  .  Well,   just   to   start  the   game  .  .  .  Here 

goes 
For  playmates:  boys! 

Babs  and  Beeswax. 

[Clapping    hands   with    delight.]     That's   it;    just    play- 
mates: girls! 


A  CHRISTMAS  PARTY  279 

[Children  of  the  Past,  of  many  nationalities,  peep 
forth  from  under  beds,  chairs,  tables;  from  behind 
curtains,  screens  and  doors,  crying,  "Here  we  are! 
Come,  catch  us,  if  you  can!"] 

Babs,  Beeswax,  and  Dick. 

[Running  toward  them.]  0  Children,  come  and  play  with 
us!  [But  the  Children  of  the  Past  disappear 
whenever  The  Present-Day  Children  draw  close 
to  them.  The  latter  exclaim,  disappointed:]  Oh, 
they've  gone! 

Third  Lob. 

Wait!  Yonder  comes  one!  [He  points  toward  the 
screen  from  behind  which  emerges  a  fair  little  lad, 
about  Dick's  age,  in  a  blue  smocTc  and  barefooted.] 

The  Present-Day  Children. 

[Delighted.]     Oh,  a  little  boy! 

The  Visitor. 

[Introducing  himself.]     Son  to  the  weaver  by  the  Olive 

Gate 
In  Genoa,  Colombo.     Named  am  I 
For  Saint  Cristoforo ! 

The  Present-Day  Children. 
[Excited.]     'T  is   Christopher   Columbus!     Oh-oh-h-h ! 


280  FESTIVAL  PLAYS 

Babs. 

[Hospitably.]     Pray    rest   yourself!     Do    take    this    easy 

chair ! 
How  weary  must  3^ou  be  for  centuries 
Standing  upon  a  monument ! 

Beeswax, 

[Assisting  Columbus  to  cliinb  into  the  chair  that  Babs 

draws  up.]      Somehow 
I  always  think  of  you  as  middle-aged ! 

Columbus. 

[Bursting   into   laughter.]     Me   middle-aged!     Me   on   a 

monument!     [Then  beconung  suddenly  grave.] 
But  keep  your  eye  on  me!     I'll  get  there  yet! 

Dick. 

Why  don't  you  speak  Italian  ? 

Columbus. 
[Staring  with  surprise.]     So  I  do! 

First  Lob. 

[Explains.]     At  fairy-parties  everybody  speaks 
One  language! 


A  CHRISTMAS  PARTY  281 

Columbus. 

[Jumping   up   and   down   in   the   cMir.]     What   a   jolly 
chair !     Hurrah. 

A  caravel  riding  the  waves  it  seems! 

Come    close!     [He    hecJcons.]     I'll   whisper   you   my    se- 
cret !     When 

Grown  up  am  I  no  carding  wool  for  me! 

I  mean  to  be  a  sailor!     [The  Children  clap  hands  de- 
lighted, and  cry,  "Bravo,  Christopher!"] 
Round  the  world, 

The  round,  round  world  around  I'll  sail!     From  Court 

To  Court  I'll  begging  go  till  Queens  and  Kings 

Help  make  my  dreams  come  true ! 

[A  Boy  and  Girl  in  the  Court  dress  of  Spain  enter, 
hand  in  hand,  as  if  having  heard  themselves  sum- 
moned.] 


The  Present-Day  Children. 

[Sing.]     These  royal  children  hand  in  hand 
From  olden  time  and  far-off  land 
Are  Isabel  and  Ferdinand — 
'T  is  plain  as  plain  can  be ! 


Isabel  and  Ferdinand. 

[Sing.]     We're  Isabel  and  Ferdinand! 
'T  is  plain  as  plain  can  be ! 


282  FESTIVAL  PLAYS 

Columbus. 

[Sings.]     0  Ferdinand  and  Isabel, 
Your  jewels  pray  you  pawn  or  sell 
To  fit  me  out  a  caravel 
That  I  may  go  to  sea! 

The  Present-Day  Children. 

[Sing.]     Aye;  fit  him  out  a  caravel 
That  he  may  go  to  sea! 


^ 


Columbus. 

[Mahing  a  telescope  of  Ms  hands,  sings.] 
This  world  of  ours  is  growing  old, 
^nd  by  the  sunset's  gateway  gold 
A  brand-new  world  can  I  behold 
As  plain  as  plain  can  be! 

All, 

[Making  telescopes  of  their  hands,  sing.] 
A  brand-new  world  can  he  behold 
As  plain  as  plain  can  be ! 

Isabel  and  Ferdinand, 

[Sing.]     Brave  lad,  your  prayer  is  not  in  vain. 
When  king  are  we  and  queen  of  Spain 
We'll  send  you  speeding  o'er  the  main 
To  find  that  new  world's  key! 


A  CHRISTMAS  PARTY  283 

The  Othebs. 

[Sing,  dancing.] 

They'll  send  him  speeding  o'er  the  main 
To  find  that  new  world's  key ! 
[Ferdinand,  Isabella  and  Columbus  retire  to  a 
corner  to  discuss  their  plans.  Dick  joins  them. 
The  Lobs  busy  themselves  shaking  up  the  cush- 
ions of  the  easy  chair  and  setting  the  room  in 
order.] 

Babs. 

[To  Beeswax.]     Girls,  fairy-stery  playmates  let  us -call: 
Red  Riding  Hood  and  Snow  White,  Cinderella,  Sleeping 
Beauty  ...  all  the  rest! 

Beeswax. 

[Echoing  the  wish.]     Yes,  yes!     0  fairy-story  playmates, 
come  to  life ! 

[Again  Children  peer  forth  from  shadowy  hiding- 
places,  calling,  "Here  we  are!  Gome,  catch  us  if 
you  can!"  The  two  little  girls  try  to  catch  these 
fairy  visitors,  who,  however,  always  elude  them.] 

Babs. 
[Orieved.]     They  mocking  flee  us  though  we  love  them  so ! 

Beeswax. 

[Grieved.]     0    Children!     One  ...  if    only    one    would 
stay! 


284  FESTIVAL  PLAYS 

[A  little  girl  whom  we  will  call  The  Eose-Girl  en- 
ters, clad  in  hom-ely  clothes  of  green,  with  a  large 
flower-like  sunhonnet.] 


Well ;  here  I  am ! 


The  Eose-Girl. 

Babs, 

Now  who  may  this  be,  pray? 

The  Eose-Girl. 

Anon  I  heard  you  summon  me  by  name, 
And  though  tucked  safely  in  my  wintry  bed 
I  dressed  myself  as  quickly  as  I  could 
And  clambered  to  your  window  as  I  do 
In  June!     What,  don't  you  know  me? 

Beeswax. 

[Struggling     with     some     rememhrance.]     Wait!     Your 

clothes 
Of  leaf-like  green  .  .  .  and  sunbonneted  like 
A  petal'd  flower  .  .  .  and  sweet-scented  .  .  .  Oh, 
Of  course  I  know  you ! 

Babs. 

So  do  I !     Welcome, 
0  rose  of  summer! 

Beeswax. 

Welcome,  summer  rose!  [The  Eose-Giel  laughs  for 
pleasure  and  returns  the  kisses  with  which  the  two 
little  girls  greet  her.] 


A  CHRISTMAS  PARTY  285 

Babs. 


But  all  the  same,  and  though  I  love  you  well 
You're  not  a  princess  from  a  fairy-book !      ^ 

The  Eose-Girl. 


•> 


Oh,  but  I  am!     The  earth's  great  wonder-book 
The  story  tells  of  Sleeping-Beauty!     \^he  sin^rs.] 

The  Song  of  the  Sleeping  Beauty  Rose. 

We  flowers  never  die! 
All  tucked  abed  we  lie 

Through  our  long  winter  trance, 
Till  comes  a  sunbeam  bright, 
A  golden-armoured  knight, 

With  golden  lance ! 

Our  icy  bonds  he  breaks ; 
Our  comrade-birds  he  wakes. 

And  lights  our  darkened  room, 
As  with  a  kiss  he  cries, 
"0  flowers,  ope  your  eyes! 

Come  forth  and  bloom!" 

\_Wi\lc  the  little  girls  are  applauding  the  Sleeping 
Beauty  Flower's  song  a  long,  lank  hoy  comes  in, 
lamenting:  "My  shadow!  I  can't  find  my  shadow! 
0  help  me  find  my  shadow!"  All  turn  to  him  in 
surprise,  saying,  "Now  who  mxiy  this  he,  crying  for 
his  shadow,  pray?"] 


286  FESTIVAL  PLAYS 

The  Shadowless  Boy. 

[Explaining.]     I'm  Peter,  son  to  that  Schlemihl  who  sold 
His  shadow  to  the  Evil  One !     Since  when 
His  name  who  answer  to  fare  shadowless ! 

Babs. 
Poor  boy!     Draw  near  the  hearth  and  warm  yourself! 

Peter  Schlemihl. 

[Shrinking  bach.]     I  dare  not,  lest  its  glow  should  show 

my  lack 
Of  full  equipment !     Nightly  thus  I  roam. 
Seeking  if  someone  has  not  cast  away 
A  worn-out  shadow  that  could  be  patched  up 
To  fit  me  I 

Beeswax. 

0  poor  Peter !     See  !     Here's  mine !     [She  stands  so  that 

the  hearth-glow  throws  her  shadow  on  the  wall.] 
Do  take  it  for  a  Christmas  present ! 

Peter  Schlemihl. 

[LooTcs  at  the  shadow,  then  shakes  his  head.]     Kind 
The  thought,  but  think  how  funny  I  should  look, 
A  long,  lank  boy,  when  walking  heel  to  heel 
With  the  dark  pattern  of  small,  plump  maid! 

Dick. 

Now  what  a  fuss  to  make  about  a  thing 
That  is  not  anything:  a  shadow! 


A  CHRISTMAS  PARTY  287 

Petee  Schlemihl. 

Oh, 

You  think  so,  do  you  ?     Try  it  then  and  see !     [He  recites 
or  sings.] 

The  Lament  of  the  Shadowless  Boy. 

When  from  a  cloud  the  sun 
Peeps  forth  I  frightened  run 

The  city  through, 
While  throwing  stones  with  jeering  noise 
A  shadowed  troop  of  girls  and  boys 

Pursue ! 

In  class  the  master  stern 
Says,  "Peter,  can't  you  learn 

To  keep  the  rule, 
And  bring  your  shadow  clean  and  neat, 
All  dressed  in  black  from  head  to  feet, 

To  school?" 

And  so,  through  all  my  days 
I  shun  life's  sunny  ways. 

Though  cold  it  be 
'T  is  always  pleasant  in  the  shade 
For  one  without  a  shadow  made, 
Like  me! 
[While  all  are  applauding  this  song  and  condoling 
with  the  singer  another  hoy  enters,  short,  stocky, 
with  masterful  air.] 


288  FESTIVAL  PLAYS 


The  Newcomer. 

Talking  of  shadows,  watch  mine  grow!     Erelong 
Over  the  map  of  Europe  will  it  spread 
And  spread  itself! 

Ferdinand, 

[Hand  in  hand  with  Isabel.]     We  trust  you  will  keep  off 
Our  joint  dominion,  Castile,  Aragon  I, 


The  Newcomer. 

Paf!     Pouf !     Your  petty  realm  is  but  a  patch 
On  my  ambition!     Still,  I  will  not  come 
Till  you  yourselves  are  shadows  and  no  more ! 


Dick. 

[Consulting  the  Lobs.]     Who  is  he:  Alexander,  Prince 

Eugene, 
Or  Julius  Caesar? 

The  Lobs. 

[Tearing  their  hair.]     Dick,  Dick,  Dick !     O  Dick, 
Is  it  for  this  we  try  to  clear  your  brain 
Of  cobwebs ! 

The  Newcomer. 

[To  Dick.]     Not  so  far  afield,  my  lad! 

I'm  all  the  generals  that  ever  were 

Rolled  into  one  ...    or  shall  be,  when  I'm  grown! 


A  CHRISTMAS  PARTY  289 

Babs. 

[Recognmng    Napoleon.]     Napoleon!     Or    Mr.    Bona- 
parte, perhaps 
I  ought  to  say !     I'm  charmed  to  meet  you ! 


Napoleon. 

So 
You  ought  to  be !     Now,  all  keep  silence  while 
A  piece  I  speak!     I  made  it  up  myself. 
Or,  rather,  't  is  a  dream  I  had !     Shorter 
Than  I  could  wish  myself,  help  me  to  stand 
Upon  the  table!     [Assisted  by  the  others  he  clambers  up 
on  the  table  and  recites.] 

My  Dream. 

I  dreamed  I  was  a  kite 
With,  0,  the  loveliest  long  tail! 
You  should  have  seen  me  catch  the  breeze, 
And,  taking  flight. 

Sail  upward.     Sail  gun !" 

High  over  houses,  trees;  the 

Over  the  church  steeple,  reach 

While,  0,  such  crowds  of  people  I 

Tossed  caps,  and  shouted,  "Hip,  hurrah !       until 
Bravo!     Well  done!"  and  up, 

While  I  said,  "Bah !  up. 

Just  watch  me  mount  up. 


290  FESTIVAL  PLAYS 

Soon  I  had  gone  so  far. 
The  world  looked  like  a  tiny  ball ! 
Yet  all  was  darkness.     In  the  sky- 
No  moon,  no  star, 
No  sun  at  all ! 
The  breeze  began  to  die. 
I  felt  myself  falling 
Down,  down.    I  called,  but,  calling, 
No  answer  heard.     I  seemed  a  lump 
Of  ice  and  lead 
When  I  came  Bump! 
And  wakened  up,  all  snug  and  warm, 

in 
my 
own 
soft, 

white 

bed! 

[  While  his  hearers  are  crowding  about  Napoleon,  ap- 

plmiding  him,  and  assisting  him   to   climb   down 

from   the  table.   Children  of  many  periods  and 

nationalities  come  from  their  hiding-places.] 


One  Group. 

[In  Puritan  garb.]     Prithee,  may  we  enter  ?     Maids  are  we 

And  lads  from  Plymouth  Colony !     And  this 

Our  Indian  playmate !     [They  introduce  an  Indian  Child. 

While  they  are  being  welcomed  a  fine  brave  lad  in 

riding-clothes  enters.'] 


A  CHRISTMAS  PARTY  291 

The  Youth  in  Eiding-Clothbs. 

Eiding  garb 
But  ill  equips  me  for  society. 
Yet  my  respects  I'd  fain  in  passing  pay! 

[A  smartly  dressed  Little  Gikl  in  Colonial  Cos- 
tume runs  in.] 

The  Colonial  Little  Girl.  N^ 

I'm  Patsy  Dandridge.     Please  may  I  come  in? 

[Patsy  is  followed  by  a  very  plainly  dressed  little 
Country  Boy.] 

The  Country  Boy. 

Plain  folk  from  Illinois  .  .  .  Tom  Lincoln's  boy  .  .  . 
I'm  Abe! 

The  Present-Day  Children. 

Abe  Lincoln,  Patsy,  and  Virginia  George, 
Be  sure  you  were  expected  1 

Napoleon. 
[To  George.]     Can  you  fight? 

George. 

I  would  not  brag,  and  yet  anon  I  fought  .  .  . 
Aye,  licked  him,  too !  a  lad  named  Bustle,  twice 
My  own  weight! 


J" 


292  FESTIVAL  PLAYS 

Napoleon. 

[Reflectively.]     Hm !     [He    turns    to    Abe.]     Can    you 
fight? 

Abe. 

Try  me ! 

Napoleon. 

[Laughs.]     Not  to-night! 
[Crowds  of  Children  now  appear  from  the  shadows.] 

These  New  Children. 

0  let  us  in !     0  Children,  let  us  in ! 
So  many  are  we,  matter  not  our  names ! 
We  are  just  children,  born  to  carry  on 
That  endless  fairy-tale  called  history ! 
Time  was  when  we,  like  you,  on  Christmas  Eve 
Hung  up  our  stockings  for  good  Santa  Claus 
To  fill!     0  let  us  once  again  relive 
That  happy  hour ! 

The  Present-Day  Children. 
0  welcome,  welcome  all! 

Beeswax. 
Where's  Santa  Claus!     Why  tarries  the  good  saint? 


A  CHRISTMAS  PARTY  293 

_'    First  Lob. 

At  midnight  is  he  due !     Hark !     Even  now 
The  old  clock  on  the  landing  clears  its  throat 
To  strike!     [All  listen.    A   clock  in  the  house  strikes 
twelve.     Then  there  is  heard  a  fanfare  of  elfin  horns 
nhingled  with  the  cheery  sound  of  approaching  sleigh- 
hells.] 


All. 


[Delighted.']     He  comes!     He  comes,  good  Santa  Claus ! 

[A  rushing  breeze  sweeps  through  the  nursery,  as  if 

the  window  were  suddenly  opened,  and  then  closed. 

The  heavy  windoiv  curtains  part,  and  Santa  Claus 

appears.] 

Santa  Claus. 

Well,  children!  Here  I  am!  And  here  it  seems  are  you! 
[All  make  a  rush  for  the  good  Saint,  welcoming 
him,  and  preferring  their  several  petitions:  "0  wel- 
come, Santa  Claus!  .  .  .  Here's  my  stocking! 
Yonder' s  mine!  Mine  are  on  my  legs!  Did  you 
bring  me  a  horse?  A  motor-car  I  asked  for! 
Please  give  me  a  sword,  cocked  hat  and  uniform, 
also  an  army  to  command!  ...  7  ivant  a  doll! 
Oh,  yes;  a  doll  its  eyes  that  opens,  please!  A  sil- 
ver thimhle.  Bow  and  arrow  and  a  pair  of  danc- 
ing shoes!"  etc.,  etc.] 


294  FESTIVAL  PLAYS 

Santa  Claus. 

One  at  a  time !     One  at  a  time,  I  say !  .  .  . 
To  each  and  all  one  only  gift  I  bring: 
The  world! 

All. 

[Puzzled.]     The  world  ...  a  Christmas  present? 

Santa  Claus. 

[Nods  kindly.]     Aye! 
I'll  show  you!     Lobs,  bring  hither  pipes  and  bowl! 

[From  behind  the  curtains  the  Lobs  bring  a  huge 
crystal  howl  filled  with  soapsuds  and  a  tray  of 
pipes.] 

The  Children. 

[Delighted.]     Oh,     soap-bubbles!      Hip,     hip,     hurrah! 
Hurrah ! 

Beeswax. 

It  was  the  world  you  promised  us! 

Santa  Claus. 

[Taking  a  huge  pipe  and  blowing  bubbles.]     And  see! 
The  world,  a  perfect  sphere,  all  rainbow-bright. 
Is  yours  to  make,  with  every  breath  you  draw! 

[The  Children  have  taken  pipes  and  now  blow  bub- 
bles.] 

Children. 

/O  Santa,  see  my  world  ...  my  round,  round  world, 
My  rainbow  world! 


A  CHRISTMAS  PARTY  295 

Columbus. 

My  teacher  says  the  world 
Is  flat,  but  I  know  better!     From  the  cliffs 
Feluccas  watch  I,  masted  caravels, 
Else  from  the  distance,  climbing  up  a  curve ! 
You'll  not  forget  your  promise,  will  you?     [To  Ferdi- 
nand a7id  Isabel.] 


Ferdinand  and  Isabel. 


Trust 


Our  honour,  Christopher 


George  from  Virginia. 

A  seaman's  life, 
I  trust,  my  portion,  also!  .  .  .  But,  how  now?     [Blow- 
ing bubbles.] 
Eed,  buff  and  blue  .  .  .  the  colours  mingle,  clash ! 
The  smoke  of  battle !     What !  a  soldier  I !     [Horrified.] 
Why,  I  can't  spur  a  horse  or  whip  a  dog! 
How  then  my  fellow-creatures  could  I  kill? 
Oh,  sir,  my  lot  pray  change? 

Santa  Claus. 

[Kindly.]     So  may  I  not! 
Wear  as  becomes  a  gallant  gentleman 
Your  sword! 

Patsy. 

[To  George.]     I'll  belt  it  on  for  you! 

y 


296 


FESTIVAL  PLAYS 


The  Eose-Girl. 

[Blowing  bubbles.]     A  storm 
Passes  across  my  bubble  ! 

Santa  Claus. 

What  of  that? 
Your  rainbow,  Eose,  will  overcome  the  storm! 


Peter  Schlemihl. 

[Mournfully,  blowing  bubbles.]      All  bright 

bow-bright  my  bubbles !     Not 
The  ghostly  semblance  of  a  shadow  there ! 
Oh,  Santa  Claus,  is  there  no  place  to  buy 
A  shadow  misfit,  second-hand?     Or  just 
The  raw  material  from  which  are  spun 
New  shadows  like  umbrellas,  parasols, 
For  well-dressed  children  ? 


all  rain- 


J 
J' 


Santa  Claus. 

Face  the  sun 
All  fearlessly,  good  Peter!  You  will  find 
A  proper  escort  shadow  in  its  place  .  .  . 
Behind  you !     Mind  you  keep  it  there ! 


\ 


Babs. 

[Bloiving  bubbles.] 
My  world !     All  full  of  happy  smiles ! 


How  bright 


A  CHRISTMAS  PARTY  297 

Beeswax. 

[Blowing  bubbles.]     And  mine  .  .  . 
Just  like  a  song  at  morning ! 

Dick. 

[Blowing  bubbles.]     As  for  mine, 
It  is  just  the  finest  .  .  .   [breaJcs  off,  sleepily]   .  .  .  fin- 
est ..  . 

Santa  Claus. 

[Rising  as  if  to  end  the  game.]     Come,  press  your  glowing 

bubbles  not  too  far. 
Lest  they  should  break  before  their  time !     And  now 
I  leave  you  for  another  year,  to  build 
A  rounded  world  and  keep  it  rainbow  bright! 

Several  Children. 

[Cry  out.]     0  .Santa  Claus,  our  bubbles  break  unread! 
Like  butterflies  we  chase  them,  but  in  vain ! 
0  tell  us  what  the  future  holds  for  us ! 

Santa  Claus. 

I'll  tell  you  fifty  years  ...  a  hundred  .  .  .  hence!  [He 
goes  toward  the  curtains,  then,  turns  to  say  a  parting 
word.] 

The  world's  my  Christmas  present  to  each  child. 

Each  child's  my  Christmas  present  to  the  world ! 

Farewell !  [He  disappears,  the  Children  crying  after 
him,   "Farewell,   0   Santa   Claus!    Next   Christmas 


298  FESTIVAL  PLAYS 

Eve,  good  Santa  Claus,  come  next  Christmas  Eve, 
good  Santa  Glaus!"  Then  there  is  another  rush  of 
breeze  through  the  nursery/,  followed  by  the  fanfare 
of  elfin  horns,  and  the  jingle  of  departing  sleigh- 
bells.] 

The  Lobs. 

[Who  have  been  clearing  away  the  pipes  and  bowl,  now 
take  up  their  brooms  and  address  the  Visiting 
Children.] 
Come,  come.     'T  is  nearly  time  for  cock  to  crow ! 
So  vanish!     Not  a  word!  be  off  with  you!     [They  sweep 
the  Visiting  Children  bacJc  into  the  shadows  whence 
they  came.] 

The  Visiting  Children. 
Good-bye,  0  Children  of  the  present-day! 

The  Present-Day  Children. 

Good-bye!  0  Children!  Come  again  and  soon!  [They 
become  more  and  more  sleepy,  and  finally  fall  down 
in  heavy  slumber.] 

The  Lobs. 

[Looking  down  on  them.]  Well,  on  the  floor!  Untidy, 
lumpy  things! 

Some  Visiting  Children. 
[Peering  forth.]     Good-bye!     Until  next  Christmas  Eve! 


A  CHRISTMAS  PARTY  299 

The  Lobs.  "" 

[Chasing  these  with  brooms.]     Clear  out! 
Get  back  to  history  where  you  belong! 

Dick. 

[In  his  sleep.]     I  thought  I  heard  voices  .  .  .  visitors  .  .  . 
children  .  .  .  Santa  Claus. 

The  Lobs. 

[Severely.]     Nothing  of  the  sort !     Here,  back  with  you 
to  bed! 

[They  tahe  the  Children  in  hand,  dragging  them 
across  the  floor,  and  then  are  heard  behind  the 
screen,  breathing  heavily  as  they  heave  them  into 
bed.  Just  as  they  have  done  this  the  door  is 
opened,  and  the  Father  and  Mother  enter  stealth- 
ily, their  arms  full  of  Christmas  padcages.] 

The  Father. 
Hush  !     Don't  wake  them  ! 

The  Mother. 

Do  not  wake  them !     Hush ! 


Tread  lightly! 


The  Father. 
Careful,  lest  you  wake  them! 


300  FESTIVAL  PLAYS 

Both. 

Hush! 
The  Lobs. 

[Come  from   hehincD  the  screen.]     Hush!     Do  not  wake 
them ! 

The  Mother. 

[Turns.]     What  was  that?     I  thought 
Someone  said  Hush!     [The  Lobs  conceal  themselves.] 

The  Father. 

'T  was  you  yourself  said  Hush ! 

The  Mother, 
Oh,  hush  !     You'll  wake  them ! 

The  Father. 

[Tiptoes  toward  the  beds.]     Sound  asleep  as  when 
I  kissed  them  all  good-night ! 

The  Mother. 

[Tiptoes  toward  beds.]     All  sound  asleep 
As  when  I  sang  them  off  to  sleep !     And,  see ! 
Their  precious  little  stockings  all  a-row! 

The  Father. 
[Proudly.]     And  not  so  little  either!     Children  grow 
Like  weeds !     God  bless  them ! 


A  CHRISTMAS  PARTY  301 

The  Mother. 

Aye,  God  bless  them ! 

Both. 

Hush! 
[They  put  some  gifts  into  the  stockings,  and  lay  the 
others  in  three  piles  on  the  hearthrug.  The 
Lobs  stealing  forth,  assist  them,  though  without 
being  discovered.  This  done,  the  Father  and 
Mother  give  a  parting  glance  toward  the  beds.] 


The  pretty  dears ! 


The  Mother. 

The  Father. 
Of  course  our  geese  are  swans! 

Both. 

Sh  !     [An  arm  about  her  The  Father  leads  the  Mother 
softly  from  the  room.] 

The  Lobs. 

[Laughing,  imitate  them.]     Sh  !     [Then,  sweeping  up  the 
room,  they  sing  softly:] 

Lob  here.  Lob  there,  Lob  everywhere! 
Lob  sweep  the  hearth.  Lob  mend  the  toys. 
Lob  do  the  tasks  of  girls  and  boys! 
Who  would  not  be  a  lob  like  me, 
A  merry  Lob-lie-by-the-fire  like  me! 


302  FESTIVAL  PLAYS 

[A  streak  of  daylight  makes  its  way  between  the  win- 
dow-curtains, and  a  distant  cock-crow  is  heard, 
whereupon  the  Lobs  hastily  shoulder  brooms,  sa- 
lute us  as  we  sit  in  the  audience,  and  vanish  as  the 
play  is  ended  and  the  curtains  close  upon  the 
scene.] 


THE   END 


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WILL  BE  ASSESSED  FOR  FAILURE  TO  RETURN 
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WILL  INCREASE  TO  SO  CENTS  ON  THE  FOURTH 
DAY  AND  TO  $I.OO  ON  THE  SEVENTH  DAY 
OVERDUE. 


«'^T     5  1934 


OCT  25  1937 


SEf^TONiLL 


NOV  1 5  im 


U.C.BERKELEY 


LD  21-100m-7,'33 


UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA  LIBRARY 


,!;!„. :(-h^ii 


III' II 


'';!-i 


nitillij! 


K';.,  'I  hill 


mm 


m'E\ 


